





\ 


> 


/ 


•/ 

y 

p 


\ 


\ 




♦ 



» 



I 









"Svesc^io'^ 




>JSSkSSNS«!»S 


L 


w 

ftod 

N 

r.F. 

¥ 





^ ¥ . 




*•« 


I ' ' 






- > ^ 


r-> - 


?• r 


t «c» 


'■^ >.J^ 


v,^ 


> s 


" >x 

.•t 


'« 


' 

► < 

• ‘w 

• 

«n>. 



t 


'T* 

% 'it . 


« 

r.. 

• .. 






^-k'^ '*■ 




?*' 


ft 


V 


< 




V. 


:<> «>* 

- ilf- V V 

V. ,»* -' I' v' 

^ .-if. r4 


•1^' 



..A 

•f 


i 




v-> V 


< I 


t 


', ^ • 


V. 


.1 



•'f .\ 


ik*r 

4 


>* 9 f I 

5 ? V 

%•' 


r 




^ ♦•-. 

'v - .) \: 


.5- 




v 


r-i- ^ • 
ir •; ; • ^ 


T 


). 


• u 


e > 




r 






> ' 




§ 

f 




V fV 


^ S V 

' > •*fc' 




f V . • 

T •* 






N* 3 V.* 






V 


'I 
? 1 


k' 


V'- 


^ » 
< 




* . 

j M- ‘ • 





NOW HEADY! 

IN THE 

SEPTEMBER NUMBER 

OF THE 

flew Yorl^ pasl^iop Bazar, 

A NEW STORY, ENTITLED 

“PRINCE CHARMINC” 

By the author of Great Mistake,” ‘‘Clarissa’s 
Ordeal,” “ Cherry,” etc. 

Every lady should read this exquisite romance. 
The name of the author is a guarantee of the thor- 
oughly high-class character of this novel. 



The New York Fashion Bazar for August affords a refreshing spectacle of 
all that is light, cool and charming in summer toilets for the fairer half of 
humanity. Ladies will find all the new and interesting features of the fashions 
of the period beautifully illustrated, both in colored plates and engravings, and 
so well described that home dress-making is made entirely practicable and 
attractive to every intelligent needle-woman. As usual, the August Bazar 
abounds in pretty suits for children, and every mother will be grateful for the 
numberless hints and models which the illustrations afford. In the literary 
department of the magazine there is the first half of a new story by the accom- 
plished American author, William Henry Bishop, entitled “ The Pavilion of the 
Sun Dial,” a summer romance of the Shrewsbury River, very suggestive of the 
delights of summer leisure and adventure. There is a new novel commenced, 
entitled Love Will Find Out the Way,” which every reader of romance will 
' y- Published by George Munro, 17 to 27 Yandewater Street, New York.— 

Hati Times-Star. 

I'iEW York Fashion Bazar for July well merits attention for its profu- 

,»i of charming summer toilets for ladies, and its pretty summer suits for 
children of all ages. One page gives a complete infant’s wardrobe. In addition 
to the numerous illustrations, it has a delightful novelette by Mrs. Harriet Pres- 
cott Spofford, an admirable paper on the ” Art of Housekeeping,” interesting 
editorial and literary miscellany, and the continuation of three capital serial 
novels. New York : 17 to 27 Yandewater Street . — The Palladium^ New Haven, 
Conn. 

The New York Fashion Bazar for July is before us. It is full of good 
things for the fair sex. One of the continued stories has come to a close in this 
number, and the others continue in interest. This issue has all the midsummer 
fashions. Published by George Munro, 17 to 27 Yandewater Street, New York. 
Worcester West Chronicle^ Athol, Mass. 


THE NEW YORK FASHION BAZAR is for sale by all newsdealers. It will also 
be sent, postage prepaid, for 25 cents per single copy. The subscription price is 
$3.00 per year. Address 

GEORGE mUNRO, Miiiiro's Publishing House, 

P. O, Box. 3751 . 17 to Vaudewater Street, New York- 


MtTKRO'S PUBLICATIOKS. 


The New York Fashion Bazar Book of the Toilet. 


PRICE 25 CENTS. 


This Is a little book which we can recommend to every lady for the preserva- 
tion and increase of Health and Beauty. It contains full directions for all the 
arts and mysteries of personal decoration, and for increasing the natural 
graces of form and expression. All the little affections of the skin, hair, eyes 
and body that detract from appearance and happiness are made the subjects 
of precise and excellent recipes. Ladies are instructed how to reduce their 
weight without injury to health and without producing pallor and weakness. 
Nothing necessary to a complete toilet book of recipes and valuable advice and 
information has been overlooked in the compilation of this volume. 


THE NEW YORK FASHION BAZAR BOOK OF THE TOILET is sold 
by all neavsdealers. It will be sent to any address, postpaid, on receipt of 
price, 25 cents, by the publisher. Address 

GEORGE MUNRO, 

MUNRO’S PUBLISHING HOUSE, 

P. O. Box 3751. 17 to iJ7 Vandewater Street* New York. 


THE KEW YOKK FASHIOK BAZAR 

Model Letter-Writer and Lover's Oracle. 


PRICE 25 CENTS. 


A COMPLETE GUIDE FOR BOTH LADIES AND GENTLEMEN IN 
ELEGANT AND FASHIONABLE LETTER-WRITING. 


CONTAINING 

Perfect Examples of Every Form of Correspondence, Business Lett. 
Letters, Letters to Relatives and Friends, Wedding and Reception Care 
Invitations to Entertainments, Letters Accepting and Declining Inw -r/ 
tations, Letters of Introduction and Re^mmendation, Letters of ^ 
Condolence and Duty, Widows’ and Widowers’ Letters, Love 
Liters for All Occasions, Proposals .of Marriage. Letters 
Between Betrothed Lovers, Letters of a Young Girl to 
Her Sweetheart, Correspondence Relating to House- 
hold Management, Letters Aocompanjdng Gifts. 


Eveir lorra of letter used in affairs of the heart will be found in this little 
nook. It contains simple and full directions Jor writing a good letter on all 
occasions. The latest forms used in the best -Jiociety have been carefully fol- 
Imd^nvitations” manual of reference for all forms of engraved cards 


For sale by all Newsdealers, or sent to any^ddress on receipt of 25 centa 
postage prepaid, by the publisher. Address ^ 


fP. O. Box S75D 


GEORGl: MUNRO, Munro’s Publishing House, 


17 to a7 Yande water Street, New York, 


THE 


PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


BY 



H. F. WOOD. 

II 




NEW YORK: 

GEORGE MUNRO, PUBLISHER, 

17 TO 37 Vandewater Street. 





-*P 








L^--! .'^■oi /; 

r. - ■: ^ V. ^ 


•>: 




-t ; fu; 




9 

^ % 



' ^rr;J ' ' .ii^ '<v" 
■•■'•' ‘0> 


\. > • 


j^ '-. ■ ■;' 








- ,r V ^ '• -' 





^ • 


v< . .• 

V‘ 




■ * » 





• ' / -»: ' 


, ‘i 


♦ r 5 ?^ 


* ’A 


;.?(r. 


•>• -' -- 
<► 


m 


.f‘ 










' ^■* '■ .' 'X^ w '. 

^ i *«■ ■“-• 




e ( 



'{' 2 ^ •;:, 



T!.-: 






*r 










THE 'PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


CHAPTER I. 

The night mail for the Continent stood ready to glide ont 
of the London terminus, the leave-taking friends assembled in 
small groups upon the platform before the carriage doors were 
reiterating last messages and once more exchanging promises 
to “ write/'’ when a hard-featured, thickset gentleman who 
had been peering out of a second-class window drew back with 
a slight exclamation of annoyance or disappointment, and sunk 
into a corner seat. Hardly a moment had passed, when the 
rattle of the guard^’s key was again heard in the lock, and the 
door fell open to admit a fifth passenger. Just in time, 
sir!'’'’ muttered the guard, banging the door after the new 
arrival and relocking it. He immediately signaled with his 
lamp, a whistle rang out sharply, and the night mail for the 
Continent started from London. 

The new-comer installed himself unobtrusively in the nearest 
vacant place, and at once muffled himself up in a traveling- 
rug and a voluminous wrapper or two. Presently there was 
little to be seen of his face but a pair of gray eyes and a Roman 
nose. He sat with his back to the engine, in the corner oppo- 
site the thickset, rubicund, hard-featured gentleman, and the 
latter had from the first followed his movements with a singu- 
lar interest. In fact, the new-comer might have been justified 
in remarking with some impatience upon the odd scrutiny of 
which he thus became the object. He seemed, however, to 
be quite oblivious of his fellow-passengers. It was nothing to 
him, apparently, that the gaze of those blood-shot blue eyes 
should be roving continually from the cloth cap which he 
wore, with lappets over the. ears, to the bulky hand-bag he 
kept upon his knees, and the plain walking-stick he had de- 
posited in the receptacle overhead. The walking-stick had 
knots or rings along its length, such as are suitable for 
concealing the juncture of the handle and the sheath in 
ordinary sword-canes. Its owner kept his eyes lowered, for the 


6 


THE PASSENGER PROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


most part, as though he wished to he as little observed as he 
was himself observant, and as though he feared to be drawn 
into conversation by even a chance interchange of glances. 
But now and then he might have been detected in a rapid 
survey of the entire compartment; indeed, at the end of one 
of these lightning-like excursions, his gray eyes encountered 
the blood-shot, inquiring orbs of the passenger opposite. It 
was already some time since the train had glided out of the 
London terminus, and dashed through the suburban stations 
on its way to Dover. 

‘‘A curious case — that diamond robbery in Park Lane!^'’ 
said the red-faced, thickset gentleman aloud. He appeared to 
be addressing the remark to the company in general, but he 
still watched the features of the latest arrival among them. 
That personage moved slightly as he heard the remark, but 
proffered no response. He merely closed the keen, gray eyes, 
and buried his chin deeper in the warm traveling wrap. The^- 
rest of the company turned interrogatively toward the 
speaker. ‘‘ A strange case,^^ he repeated, studying the closed 
eyelids in front of him; “ the man who planned that robbery 
and got away with all those diamonds must be a clever man at 
his business, and no mistake. HeTl want some catching, that 
man will! But I think I know a man as clever as he is — and 
quite clever enough to do the catching for liim. 

“ Dear me, now!^^ returned a passenger, in a sort of attire 
wliich, without being clerical, had a clerical look, “ I have 
seen no mention of the occurrence in the newspapers. May I 
ask you, sir, to what affair you make allusion?” 

‘‘ Well, I shouldnT be surprised if none of the papers had 
yet heard of it,” answered the other; ‘‘ but theyffl hear of it 
to-morrow morning, I dare say. WeTe due at Dover at ten 
o^clock, and we donT stop on the way, bar accidents. But 
when we do run into Dover Station, I dare say we shall see 
what we shall see!” 

He drew a spirit-flask out of his pocket, and took a pull at 
it. His questioner had been about to put some further query, 
but checked himself at the sight of the flask. A suspicion 
that the man had had recourse to it before was "easily discerni- 
ble upon his countenance. In the far Qorner, a»^ort, spare, 
youthful passenger, lost in the folds of a roomy ulster, turned 
toward the window and composed himself for sleep. 

‘‘ Yes, you may say what you like about the failures of the 
police,” continued the peron who had begun the conversation, 

‘‘ but I say that the London detective force are a body of re- 
marJiable men, and 1 know something of their ways and what 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 7 

they do, sir, I can tell you. Know something about them? I 
should think I did!^^ 

‘‘Bless me, now, really said the clerical gentleman, evi- 
dently quite interested. “ And what may be the nature of 
this robbery you refer to — this diamond robbery in Park Lane; 
an extensive afPair, now?'’^ 

“ Twenty thousand pounds, replied the other, “that^s all! 
Twenty thousand pounds’ worth, at a fair figure.” He 
screwed up the spirit-flask, and fixed his gaze obstinately on 
the closed eyelids opposite. “ Gone out of a safe in the strong- 
room, where they had been placed for one night only, and no 
traces!” 

“ Ko traces whatever?” 

“ Nothing. But, all the same, there are certain circum- 
stances which — Well, if they do happen to be upon the right 
track, theyTl owe a good deal of it to me. For I don’t mind 
telling you that as a tradesman living in the neighborhood of 
Park Lane and serving the house in question — Mr. Wilmot’s 
house — Stanislas Wilmot, diamond merchant in Hatton Gar- 
den — wealthy old boy — as a tradesman, I say, serving the pri- 
vate house in Park Lane regularly, I happen to have been 
situated better than most people for knowing what was going 
on inside it. However that may be, the man was a clever one 
that planned this robbery. ” 

“ Well, well, well! But tell me how this Mr. -Wilmot, with 
premises in Hatton Garden presumably suited to his busiuess, 
came to transfer so large a quantity of valuables to his private 
residence?” 

“ Because the quantity of valuables was large. The con- 
signment had only been delivered at his office on the previous 
day, although he had been expecting it for a week or two. 
Well, he doesn’t like to trust his clerks, and he doesn’t like to 
trust the housekeeper in Hatton Garden, or the watchman, or 
the strong-rooms there, and so he prefers to take extra good 
stones, passing through his firm, to the little private house he 
occupies in Park Lane. Oh, it isn’t the first time he has run 
the risk, by a long way. He knows what he’s about, though, 
as a rule. There’s always a special constable on duty just 
about thei^^n the lane; and the strong-room in the private 
house is as good as you could wish to see. He’s an old swell, 
a widower; and you can often see him riding in the Kow with 
a young lady he has adopted — Miss Adela, a poor relation of 
his wife’s.” 

“ The thief, or tliieves, then, broke into the private premises 
during the night?” 


8 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

“ Who can say? The old boy brought these diamonds home 
without saying anything to anybody. In the presence of his 
butler, he deposited them as" usual in his strong-room. The 
next morning they found both the locks intact, but the dia- 
monds were gone. 

“ Is he sure he locked them up?^^ 

“ Sure? Of course he"s sure! And sods his butler."" 

Ah! A confidential servant, now — the butler?"" 

‘‘Yes, sir, a confidential servant."" 

“ Quite so, just so!— a confidential servant."’ 

“ Oh, I can answer for the butler. I can answer for him as 
I can answer for myself."" 

The clerical gentleman smiled sweetly, and inclined his 
head. If, with Master Dumbleton, he “ liked not the 
security,"" he did not allow his mistrust to be manifest. 

The train rushed onward to its destination, covering mile 
after mile at the same headlong speed. It was the third week 
of December, and the weather was detestable. Driven against 
the carriage windows by violent gusts of wind, the rain 
showered like hailstones upon the panes of glass. As the pas- 
sengers flashed through the stations on their route, the lights, 
appearing to them for an instant only, were all blurred and 
indistinct. Three occupants of the compartment we have 
traveled with were doubtless fast asleep. The clerical gentle- 
man had not lapsed into slumber, that was clear. His lips 
occasionally moved as though he were engaged in the rehearsal 
or construction of a discourse. He opened his eyes dreamily 
from time to time, and at one of these moments his gaze met 
that of his communicative, red-faced neighbor. 

“ Going to cross the Channel, sir?"" asked the latter. 

‘ ‘ Yes. "" 

“ Calais or Ostend, sir?"" 

“ And a tolerably rough crossing it will be,"" pursued the 
other. “ Are you going by the boat yourself?"" 

“ I think I shall stay a night or two at Dover. My business 
takes me across the water every now and then, but a day 
sooner or later does not signify. West End tradesmen are 
largely supplied from the Continent, and I deal regularly with 
certain houses myself. Business has been b4(J, however. 
Those who do cross to-night will find it nasty in the Channel, 
I can tell you."" He imscrewed his pocket-flask. “And 
there’ll be some fun at Dover, if the man shows fight."" 

“ Bless me, now! The afiair you were referring to?"" 

“ Why, yes. I don’t mind teljing you "" — the speaker stared 
once more at the closed eyes and the Koman nose dii-ectly op- 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


9 


posite him — that theyVe got the man suspected, or, rather, 
that they will have liim. On all the northern lines the police 
are on the lookout by this time. It was thought he would 
make a feint of taking refuge on the Continent, and that he 
would go north instead. But I believed he was bound for the 
Continent in reality, and unless I am very much mistaken he 
is in this train. The butler has been at Folkestone or Dover 
since this morning, and the local police were wired to watch 
the night mail. The butler will identify him, but there may 
be a confederate in the case. A detective who had seen him in 
suspicious company was to run down by the night mail — this 
very train. 

He winked most expressively as he uttered these words, and 
nodded with great vigor in the direction of the Roman nose and 
veiled gray eyes. The clerical gentleman lifted his eyebrows 
and pursed up his mouth in the profoundest astonishment. 
As a kind of confirmation and rejoinder, the other smiled upon 
one side of his rubicund visage, and again nodded and winked. 

“ Bless me!” ejaculated the clerical gentleman. “ And the 
man whom you suspect, now — who is he?” 

“ A young fellow of good family, named Sinclair, private 
secretary to old Stanislas Wilmot until three months ago, when 
he was suddenly dismissed. He knew all about the old boy’s 
business dealings, and has been seen several times in the neigh- 
borhood of the house during the past few weeks. He gave it 
out that a gentleman abroad had engaged him as private secre- 
tary. We can see very well what that little maneuver meant. 
A great pity, for he was generally liked, and quite a superior 
young gentleman. Miss Adela and he — Well, well — I say 
nothing.” 

“ But how could he have got into the strong-room?” 

“ That’s Just what 1 said. The butler thinks he must have 
got in simply with the keys; and as Mr. Wilmot’s keys were 
not out of his possession for a single moment while the dia- 
monds were there, he thinks the young fellow must have had 
duplicates. It seems that the keys were once mislaid for a 
few hours, before Mr. Sinclair went away. You can soon 
take a pattern for duplicates, can’t you? Great pity, sir. The 
result of fast life, however, from what the butler tells me. ” 

“ Suppose the young man really had had these duplicates 
made, with dishonest intention; they might, likewise, have 
been stolen from himself, or ‘ borrowed ’ in J ust the same 
fashion?” 

They stared at each other for several seconds, and then 
looked round the compartment as if for the opinions of their 


10 


THE PASSENGEll PROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


fellow-voyagers. There could be no doubt that they were all 
three fast asleep. 

Suddenly the carriage began to vibrate with a succession of 
shocks. The train was slackening its pace. Two of the other 
passengers woke up immediately. 

‘‘ Something on the line/"* observed the clerical gentleman 
— “ or else we are going to pull up at a road-side station.^'’ 

A road-side station!'^ growled his red-faced iuterlocutor, 
“ and what for? We are not far from Dover, and we sha’nT 
be punctual as it is.^^ 

He let down the window. 

The train reached the first lamps of a small country station. 
It was moving at so slow a rate that at any instant it might 
have stopped. Voices outside could be heard, calling back- 
ward and forward. ‘‘Wire to Dover, shouted somebody, and 
a second or two afterward the train took a fresh impetus. 

“ I donT know what it is,^^ muttered the red -faced gentle- 
man, putting up the window again, “ unless it refers to the 
Wilniot affair. Perhaps young Mr. Sinclair has been detected 
in the train under some disguise. The two guards were in 
communication.^"’ He mopped his cheeks with his handker- 
chief, and wiped the clinging rain-drops from his coat. “ A 
pretty crossing!’^ he added — “ a pretty crossing, to-night, for 
those who’ve got to make it. Going to Calais, sir?’"’ 

He put the question abruptly to the passenger whose big 
bli ' " seemed still to be bent upon him. 



was the answer, in somewhat 


going acrossj 


affected tones; “ as I suppose we all are?” 

“ In this weather!” exclaimed in unmistakable Cockney ac- 
cents the 3^outh ensconced within the ulster. “ Not me! 
Cross in a gale of wind like this, and with the rain a-coming 
down in buckets full! Not if I know it, for one — ^not me, Mr. 
Wilkins!” 

He dehvered these phrases in the manner of a soliloquy, and 
it was to be conjectured that the Wilkins he apostrophized was 
but the creature of his fancy, a familiar who received habitual 
confidences. He shrmik further into the festoons of his shape- 
less garment, and turned his face again toward the window- 
curtain. 

“ AVe are surely traveling at a dangerous velocity,” resumed 
the clerical gentleman, clearing his throat with a cough which 
recalled the platform of public meetings. “ The hazards of 
this life should be always present to sober-minded men. Now, 
my very excellent friend opposite concurs with me, no doubt, 
upon many topics, sees matters with my eyes, and probably 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAHH YARD. 


11 


with greater clear-sightedness; and yet there is one topic upon 
which assuredly we look with different vision : my friend smiles, 
and I think he comprehends my meaning — yes, my dear friend, 
the question — the great and burning question — the vital, na- 
tional, indeed, international question, I may say — of alcohol!^’ 

“ To every man, what suits him, say 1/’ responded the 
other, feeling once more for the spirit-flask. ‘‘ What suits me, 
sir, on a wet night, when I canT take exercise, is the old pre- 
scription out of Scotland — a wine-glassful when you feel to 
want it. ^ 

‘‘ Ah, widespread and too potent fallacy! If we could 
only vanqui^ and expel, forever and aye, the error which that 
argument disseminates, what a vast stride toward the precious 
victory, what a splendid beneflt conferred upon civilization! 
The globe, sir, would re-echo with one long sigh of glad relief; 
for the extirpation of that single error would bring us prompt- 
ly within sight of the goal."’^ 

“ In the teetotal line, sir?’^ 

The red-faced gentleman, as though unwilling to wound the 
susceptibilities of his neighbor, relinquished his search for the 
medical prescription which suited him. 

‘‘ A pioneer in the great cause, assented the other. ‘‘ Let 
me offer you my card; we may be companions for the rest of 
the journey, should you decide to cross to-night. 

He produced a mother-of-pearl card-case, and with a depre- 
cating gesture handed over a rather exaggerated oblong slip of 
pasteboard. 

‘‘ Bro. a. Neel, 

Lecturer, 

1. 0. T. A."" 

So ran the card. 

“L 0. T. A.?’^ repeated the person to whom it was handed. 

‘‘ International Organization of Total Abstainers,'’^ an- 
swered Brother Neel, sonorously. 

Just think of thatT’ murmured his questioner, with a 
vague expression of alarm. “ Been going on long, sir, this 
international movement?'’^ 

“ Not a great length of time, but we have already accom- 
plished results of an exceedingly encouraging kind.'’^ He 
glanced at the card passed to him in exchange for his own. 

All we need, Mr. Bemington, is activity in proselytizing, 
and intelligent assistance from the rich. As fast as our funds 
permit it, we shall open a new branch in some continental 
center. At present we have half a dozen branch establishments 
on the Continent, the most important of them being the 


12 


THE PASSEHGEK FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


branch at Paris. In fact^ we make Paris our head-quarters 
for the Continent. You are probably acquainted with our 
offices in that metropolis?’^ 

‘‘ No/’ replied Mr. Eemington, his blood-shot eyes still fixed 
upon the initials of the international society. 

‘‘ Well, we intend to achieve great things. As a first meas- 
ure, we attack the railway officials on the principal lines, the 
international services. ‘ Attack ’ is my way of putting it, 
you know.” Brother Neel endeavored to look jocular as he 
threw in this j^arenthetical remark. “ And we have enlisted 
a fair proportion of them on this side, and at Brussels. We 
find that there are cases — especially the guards and engine- 
drivers — which tell admirably in our half-yearly reports. 
Wherever we extend our operations we find the public most 
■willing to support our movement, and our agents write that 
they are zealously aided by the English colonies in all the con- 
tinental centers. People travel so generally nowadays, you 
see, sir. And how much woe and ruin may be wrought by one 
— but one, inebriated engine-driver! And this was the reflec- 
tion which occurred to me when I noticed the hazardous velocity 
with which we were traveling. Ah, my dear friend, I quarrel 
with no man’s views; I do not demand that my brother shall 
live as I live, but neither can I live as my brother lives — hour- 
ly conniving at suicide, moral and physical. Oh, cast the 
tempter from you — hurl away that accursed bottle — hurl it far 
away! You will pardon me my earnestness, dear friend?” 

“ Oh, I know the prescription that suits me /” said Mr. 
Eemington, with a gruff laugh, “ and you’ll excuse me, sir, 
but when you get into the Channel you might feel to want a 
wine-glass of it 3"ourself. Hark at the wind.” 

He lowered the window, and a keen gust at once swept 
through the compartment. The night was too dark for them 
to discern the few swaying trees along their route, but faint 
lights began to flit by, and presently the motion of the train 
became less rapid. “ Dover!” announced Mr. Eemington, in 
an unsteady voice. He ought to have experienced small need 
of any further recourse to the spirit-flask, but he took a final 
pull at it. If the oblique regard dispatched at him by Brother 
Neel meant anything, it meant A wine-glass and a half, this 
time.” 

The night mail drew up at the Dover ticket-station. 

“There they are!” exclaimed Mr. Eemington, leaning out 
of the window. “ And they’ve got him! There’s a force of 
the local police waiting on the platform.” 

“Bless me!” responded Brother Neel, “and so they’ve 


THE PASSEKGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


13 


caught the thief? Bless me!” He gazed at the other tliree 
passengers with surprise at their indifference. “ Twenty thou- 
sand pounds in precious stones, now! Could we not catch a 
glimpse of the prisoner?” 

‘‘ The door^s locked,^ ^ returned the other, somewhat ex- 
citedly, trying the handle. ‘‘ TheyTl have to pass this way, 
however, to leave the platform, and then^ouTl see him. Yes, 
here they come. They are not losing time, at any rate! Just 
as I thought: it^s Mr. Sinclair they^ve arrested. Well, hut 
what does that mean — ^who^’s that?” He put his head in for a 
moment, and glanced at the passenger who had been the last 
to enter the compartment at the London terminus. ‘‘ There^s 
a man in plain clothes directing the constables,” he added; 
‘‘ that must be the detective whd was to come from London. 
They Ye making no noise about it, anyhow! YouTl see them 
march by.” 

A tramp of footsteps was heard on the drenched platform, 
and the helmets of the foremost constables could be seen from 
the interior of the compartment. 

‘‘ I^m sorry for you, Mr. Sinclair, called the passenger 
who had recounted the story of the missing valuables. 
‘‘ YouYe been led away; and I^m sorry for you. ” 

‘‘ Oh, Remington — is that you?” answered a young manY 
voice, in firm and distinct tones. “ Well, they have arrested 
the wrong man, I can tell you!” 

The wrong man!” echoed the other, looking after the con- 
stables, as the tramp of footsteps died away. “Yes, they all 
say that. 

Mr. Remington had to make room for a ticket inspector, 
who now appeared at the carriage door and threw it open. 
The gentleman with the Roman nose woke up at the same in- 
stant as placidly as he had slept. He produced a through 
ticket, like his four fellow-travelers. The official tore out the 
first leaf, “ London — Dover,” in each case, handed the little 
books back again, and vanished. 

“ Going across to-night, sir?” inquired Brother Neel of Mr. 
Remington. 

“ I hardly know, till we get down to the pier,” replied that 
individual, looking toward the sky, although there was noth- 
ing to be seen. “Shall you cross to-night, sir?” 

“ I have not quite made my mind up,” answered Brother 
Neel, with a glance toward the carriage window, which, how- 
ever, only refiected their o^vn figures. 

A minute or two of cautious progress, and the train came to 


14 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

a standstill on Dover Pier. But no porters presented them- 
selves to unfasten the doors. 

“ "Ere, let us out!"" exclaimed the youthful gentleman in- 
side the ulster. It was his place that lay nearest to the plat- 
form at Dover Pier, and he let the glass do^vn with a run, and 
peered out for the information of his companions. There s 
something else up,^" he remarked; “ they"re visiting all the 
carriages."" 

A guard, whose cap and overcoat were dripping with ram, 
suddenly made his appearance at the open window, scanned 
the five passengers hastily, prepared to pass on, and then 
checked liimself. 

Is there a passenger here from Scotland Yard?"" he asked, 
with some hesitation. 

No one replied. 

‘‘ A passenger here from Scotland Yard?"" he repeated, 
holding up the envelope of a telegram, which large drops of 
water had smeared and blotted. No one replied. 

“ I beg pardon,"" said Mr. Remington, hurriedly, to the per- 
son opposite, whose proceedings had inspired him with so deep 
an interest from the outset, “ but are you not the gentleman 
in question?"" 

“ I?"" returned the other, speaking for the first time. 
‘‘ From Scotland Yard? I? What an idea, to be sure! Cer- 
tainly not. "" 

The guard lingered at the entrance, gazing from one to the 
other. 

“My name is Pritchard,"" continued the personage inter- 
rogated, “ and I am traveling through to the south of France. 
Pray let us take our places on the boat."" 

The official unlocked the door. As the five occupants of 
the compartment scrambled down the steps, they saw him visit- 
ing the next carriage to their o^vn. 

“ This way for the Calais boat! Ostend boat that way, sir! 
This way for Calais — ^boat waiting!"" 

Male and female voyagers, clad from head to foot in heavy 
cloaks and capes that protected them from the wet and cold, 
but impeded all their movements, struggled as best they could 
through the vehement wind and streaming rain. The lamps 
of the pier station lighted up their paths, as, hampered with 
packages, rugs, and shawls, they followed the directions of the 
railway servants posted about the platform for their guidance. 
Disconsolate comments in broken English meet the ear, min- 
gled with staccato sounds in objurgatory French. The pas- 
sengers were not numerous. In the third week of December the 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTTAND YARD. 


15 


traffic across the English Channel is usually excessive from the 
Continent to England, but slight from England to the Continent 
— the home, peculiarly, of Christmas festivities being Britain. 
“This way for the Calais boat! — take care, sir — take care, 
ma’am 1^' The stone steps down to the gangway of the vessel 
glistened in the scanty rays of two lanterns held by sailors. 
The gangway itself swung with the gentle rise and fall of the 
Channel boat; it was pretty certain that the weather would he 
“dirty” outside the harbor. A black shroud, however, 
seemed to cover the whole scene beyond and to hide it from 
the view. One by one, with infinite precautions, the voyagers 
groped their ’^ay on board the “ Astarte.” The last of the 
stumbling figures in Indian file appeared to be Mr. Pritchard, 
with the through ticket for the south of France. No; there 
was yet another: a gentleman who had at length arrived at a 
decision about making the passage that night — Mr. Eeming- 
ton. And one more form approached— this time, the last — at 
some little distance in his rear; that of a gentleman who, like- 
wise, had eventually been able to make his mind up — Brother 
A. Neel, of the I. 0. T. A. 


CHAPTER II. 

The “ Astarte ” had received her mail-bags and the pas- 
sengers’ luggage, and lay alongside the pier, gently rocking as 
if impatient to put out. The through guard of the train was 
in conversation with the captain of the boat. 

“ It put me in a difficulty,” said he. “ How was I to find 
out the man they wanted? The message to me asked for a 
reply at once, and so I wired back that there was no one from 
Scotland Yard among the passengers.” 

“ Why didn’t they name their man?” inquired the captain. 
“ It seems a strange proceeding — unless — Well, we never 
know; it might be a repetition of that affair.” 

“ So I thought, for a moment. But it seemed more likely 
to be a mistake, or a piece of neglect. They must have meant 
the telegram for the plain-clothes man who came down from 
London, and who arrested this young fellow, Sinclair, at Dover 
town station. Or perhaps there were two plain-clothes men 
down by the train, traveling apart, and the telegram could be 
delivered to either of them. Well, I can’t undertake to con- 
duct their business for them. The message was addressed 
‘ Passenger from Scotland Yard,’ to my care, Dover — ‘ Guard 
of continental night mail, Dover Station ’ — with a word to 
myself. I have just wired back that a plain-clothes man had 


16 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

apprehended a Mr. Sinclair on a charge of diamond robbery 
in the West End, and that I had sent their telegram after him 
by a messenger into the town. That^s all I could do.^^ 

‘‘ Who identified this Mr. Sinclair?"^ 

“ The butler of the house, who was waiting on the platform 
with the constables. 

“ Do you know what I think about it?'’^ demanded the cap- 
tain, after a pause. It looks to me as though theyVe sent 
down one of their big men after somebody, and above all 
wanted to keep his name quiet. Suppose that something hap- 
pened after the train left, which it was most important he 
should know. How were they to communicate with him? 
They did not wish to disclose his name, we will say, because it 
Avould have handicapped him, especially if he were following 
clever people, or if he were ‘ made-up ^ in any way. ShouldnT 
be at all surprised if I We hit it.'’' 

‘‘No one came and asked if a telegram was waiting; and I 
had to go and inquire in the compartments where the pas- 
sengers looked at all likely people. It's pretty well known 
now that somebody else from Scotland Yard was believed to 
have run down by the night mail." 

“ They must have seen that at Scotland Yard in sending 
off the telegram ; but of the two evils no doubt they chose the 
less. Very likely their man was one of the passengers you 
asked. Of course he would not acknowledge the telegram if 
he were watching his man; he would risk it." 

“ There are a good many ‘ ifs ' about that, captain; but we 
do see such rum things, you and me, going backward and for- 
ward, that I dare say you are not altogether far out. But, 
now you mention it, how do we know that the message came 
from the Scotland Yard authorities at all? Suppose a gang of 
criminals know that one of their number is being followed by 
one of the best men from Scotland Yard; what is to hinder 
tliem from wiring to the detective, in the name of his superiors, 
to stop him at Dover, and so enable their own man to get away 
with whatever he has got about him? The one envelope was 
inside the other; and I only know the words of the message to 
myself as through guard." 

“ It might be as you suggest; only, in that case, your reply 
would not have been arranged for." 

“ Not as a bhnd?" 

“ By Jove," said the captain, after shouting an order to the 
engine-room, “ I should like to know what the business really 
is. For all we can tell they may be tracking American dyna- 


THE PASSEi^^GER PROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


17 


miters! So long as they don't blow my boat iip^ I don't 
care." 

“ How's the sea outside?" 

‘‘Bad!" 

Everything on board was now tight and water-proof. The 
captain nodded to tb^ guard, uttered another direction, and 
ascended to a more elevated post. The joints of the shining 
machinery shd round, and the “ Astai’te " gave two or three 
preliminary throbs. 

“ Olf at last^" muttered to a companion one of the few pas- 
sengers who had remained on deck; “ we're twenty minutes 
behind time." 

He was enveloped in a mackintosh which fell almost to his 
feet. The collar, turned up, rose over his ears, and the cloth 
cap he wore, furnished with lappets and a broad peak, com- 
pletely hid the upper portion of his features. His companion 
was a much shorter gentleman, and imderneath the broad 
brim, pulled downward, of a soft felt hat, it was impossible to 
distinguish his head. Perched on the summit of a roomy up- 
right ulster, the soft felt hat looked as though it crowned a 
tailor's effigy, of the kind which, with tickets suspended from 
their necks, grin at us from the plate-glass estabhshments of 
the cheap clothier. A casual observer would not have sup- 
posed these two persons to be acquaintances. In spite, how- 
ever, of their attitude toward each other — the attitude of 
strangers — they presently exchanged observations in extremely 
low tones. 

“ Are you sure he's on hoard?" asked the taller of the two, 
anxiously. “ I was too much occupied with my man to be 
able to look after him. Are you quite sure?" 

“Certain," murmured the other. “I watched him go 
down-stairs into the .cabin and. take a berth." 

“ Well, you had better go down, too. Bat, and keep an eye 
on him. Change ?ome money with the steward at the same 
time. We shall wanv some French money on the way." 

“Go down! — not me! The ‘tec' may have slipped you, 
and gone down himself. I don't want him to know me by 
sight as well as I know him — what do you think! Suppose I 
just went into the lion's den at once, without making anymore 
fuss about it? Not nie! It's — awful, up here — but you don't 
catch Bartholomew walking into the arms of Morpheus- — no, 
sir! It would be like stepping into the Old Bailey dock right 
off. Not me, Mr. Wilkins!" 

“ I tell you I've not lost sight of the detective. He is in 
one of the private cabins — the last on this side. I'll watch 


18 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

him till we get to Calais. You had better go down and see 
what flOur man is doing — whether he is drinking. Some one 
else may be after it. We ought to get half an hour at Calais. 
Come to my table in the station restaurant. Why^ what are 
you afraid of? There ^s nothing against you.'’^ 

“No, but there soon may be.^^ The ^eaker reeled against 
the bulwarks, as the “ Astarte,^’ rounding the harbor entrance, 
encountered the first of her foaming assailants, and lurched 
with the shock. He grasped a rope to save himself from fall- 
ing. “ Come, you had better go down-stairs, Bat,^^ repeated 
his companion, who, though apparently the better sailor, held 
on perforce to the same rope for a moment. 

The “ Astarte made straight for the white ridge of a black 
mass opposed to her. There was a loud crash, and over the 
deck flew an invisible shower of salt, ice-cold spray. The 
“ Astarte left the dim, white ridge behind her, and the black 
mass rolled sullenly away; and then she sunk dreadfully, down 
— down — into a yawning furrow, where for an instant she 
stood quite still, as if to collect her energies for another such 
antagonist. 

“ Perhaps youT’e right, Sir John,^'’ said Mr. Bartholomew, 
faintly; “ I could do with a drop of brandy from the stew- 
ard.'’^ 

The two figures parted, the sack-like ulster steering an 
erratic but precipitate course in the direction of the cabin 
staircase. 

Sir John continued hardily at his post. The breaking surf 
and howling wind appeared to disturb him less than the occa- 
sional approach of a surprised seaman. As the “Astarte"'^ 
drove upon her way, the marine birds, riding exultantly on 
the waves, would fly up in front of her and dart across the 
deck, or swoop along the vessel from steni to stern, cleaving 
the gale with their muscular, forked wings.* 

On the lugubrious, indeed pathetic, scene below, it would 
be both undesirable and invidious to enlarge. When the limp 
felt hat and draggling ulster had climbed to the foot of the, 
brass-edged stairs and forced an entrance into the cabin, there 
was no mirth at the piteous mien of the youth upon whose in- 
sufficient frame those articles hung. The steward and his as- 
sistant were too busy to attend to him at once. The necessary 
fluid, however, procured and gulped down, and consciousness 
having been partially recovered, Mr. Bartholomew addressed 
himself to a review of the company around him. A callous, 
jesting personage, presumably a commercial traveler, sat at 
the table in the center, with some cold boiled beef before him. 


THE PASSEHGEK FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


19 


and a bottle of stout, and with a London evening newspaper 
propped up against a loaf of bread. The “ Astarte plunged 
and recoiled, shivered and righted herself, and at times it 
might have seemed to the dispirited voyagers that, the Phoeni- 
cian goddess of the moon would brusquely dive with them into 
the very bowels of the earth. 

Mr. ]3artho]omew, scrutinizing one after another the recum- 
bent forms, allowed his eyes to rest for a moment on the in- 
flamed' visage of Mr. Remington. That gentleman was en- 
sconced in an easy-chair, at the raised extremity of the cabin. 
He, too, had been examining the company from his point of 
observation, and his gaze met the cautious glance directed to- 
ward him by the new arrival. Both countenances immediately 
assumed a bland expression of unconcern, and each proceeded 
with the apparently interrupted survey of his neighbors. 

‘ ‘ Anything in the paper, sir, about the diamond robbery in 
the West End they were talking about at Dover asked the 
steward, as he rested from his labors. ‘‘ There was quite a 
to-do down at the station. A ticket inspector told me that 
the police took the thief directly the mail touched the town 
platform. 

“Not a word about it,^^ replied the commercial traveler, 
carving the cold boiled beef; “ the whole thing must have been 
kept precious quiet. ^ Sometimes that is the best way; and if 
they have really put their hands on the right man, the Scot- 
land A'ard people have done the trick, this time, about as 
neatly as you could wish to see. 

“ Smart work,-’^ said the other. “ I heard there was twenty 
thousand pounds^ worth of valuables. Do you suppose he had 
the diamonds about him, sir?"^ 

“I suppose so. I suppose that was one of the reasons why 
he was making for the Continent. However, they^ll find that 
out when they search him at the lock-up. It seems he had no 
luggage in the van — nothing but a portmanteau which he kept 
with him in the carriage. They ought to have concluded the 
search by this time.^^ He looked at his watch. “ I wonder 
whether they were family jewels — necklaces, bracelets, and so 
forth — or whether they were loose stones! That makes a 
deuce of a difference, you know; people always exaggerate the 
value of their own family jewels; but there^s this about brill- 
iants set in precious metal of some design or other — you can 
trace them if you donT let too much time slip by.^' 

“ So you can, sir; whereas loose stones — 

“ Whereas, how can you identify loose stones? You may 
have one or two of exceptional size, and those you may be able 


20 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

to swear to, though I shouldn't like to risk it myself, even 
then, not being a diamond-cutter or polisher, or an expert. 
But take a few loose brilliants of the average size; how are you 
to identify them if they have passed out of your possession for 
a day or two? Here are two rings that I\e worn, one for ten, 
the other for fifteen years. This one looks very well, doesn't 
it? It's set with ‘ roses,' and I've had it for fifteen or sixteen 
years; well, it's not worth very much. Tins other — see how 
beautifully the diamond is cut, and it's a deep stone — I've been 
wearing constantly for certainly ten years. I could identify 
that ring, as it stands, among a thousand, and it's worth some 
money. But take the stone out of the setting, tell me it has 
been put with others of the same size, and bring it back to me 
— I wouldn't like to swear to its identity. Very likely I 
couldn't pick it out from half a dozen other loose stones, cut 
in the same shape or thereabouts." 

I've often noticed that ring, sir, when you've been cross- 
ing by the boat. Don't you think it might be a temptation to 
dishonest parties?" 

“Oh, nothing has ever happened to me. And I shouldn't 
advise anybody to try it on; I don't travel unarmed." The 
commercial traveler was a man of powerful build, and he 
laughed boisterously. “ Talking about diamonds reminds 
me," he went on, “ of a friend of mine, a brother ‘ commer- 
cial,' who used to travel in the diamond trade between Amster- 
dam and the United States. There was a tremendous duty on 
diamonds going into the States, and my friend, who was an 
Englishman, used to be always trying to get some through the 
custom house free of duty. So long as his firm would let him 
bribe, he was pretty successful, but the bribes began to mount 
up to almost as much as the duty, and they found out there 
was no satisfying those fellows out there. The firm stopped 
the bribes, and after that they regularly persecuted him, out 
there, whenever he landed. Well, he rather liked this for a 
time, but human nature could not stand the life they led him, 
and in the end he gave up the business. What I am coming 
to is the last thing he did. He had brought a valuable con- 
signment from Amsterdam. The custom house people felt 
convinced he was declaring much too small a quantity, and so 
he was. They ransacked his luggage, tested the sides of his 
trunks, made him open secret compartments, and tried the 
lining of his clothes, but all m vain. At last, with one of 
their apologies, they required him to partly undress, to see 
whether he was not carrying a diamond-belt. He expostulat- 
ed, and wanted to resist, but they begged liim to take into con- 


THE PASSEKGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


21 


sideration his past successes. He yielded, and they could find 
nothing. But he had a strengthening plaster across his shoul- 
, ders, and one of the officials noticed the corner of it beneath 
his vest. ‘ Hold on/ says he; ‘ I guess weVe not ’done yet.' 
They tested the surface, and sure enough, between the plaster 
and his shoulders were the httle protuberances they had sus- 
pected. They got the plaster off with hot water, put it away 
with the stones underneath, and took his address for summon- 
ing him at the police court on the charge of defrauding the 
revenue. The summons never came on, however. On exam- 
ining the stones they had seized, the officials discovered that 
they were all imitation." 

“ And where had he put the real ones, then?" 

The genuine stones were closely packed in a large old-fash- 
ioned silver watch — or, rather, what looked like it — which he 
carried carelessly with a common watch-guard. But, of course, 
he did not keep them long in his possession. " 

‘‘ Well, well, well!" exclaimed the steward, admiringly. 

Again the glances of Mr. Remington and our young friend 
Bartholomew met, and were instantly averted. A vague sort 
of mutual cognizance appeared thenceforward to exist between 
them — a cognizance betrayed by, as much as anything, a dis- 
tinct effort on either side to abstain from observation of the 
other. Interminable seemed the rumbling of the vessel, to- 
gether with the thundering of the surge against her sides. 
Amid the most dolent of manifestations, the steward adjusted 
a pair of spectacles, and took up the evening paper for his 
own perusal. 

A mariner in a suit of tarpaulins came down the staircase, 
and imbibed something at the counter. 

‘‘ Are we far off?" 

“ Just there, sir." 

“ Thank goodness!" 

Dmc merci .^" 

What a beastly crossing!" 

Ah y momieur, quelle tr aver see 

Ten or twelve minutes afterward the crashing gradually died 
away. The ‘‘ Astarte " neared the shore — the coast of France. 
Overhead, a great clattering became audible; and witliin the 
cabin, several of the experienced passengers prepared to gather 
up their hand-packages. 

“ Long coming over?" inquired one of his neighbor. 

“ Two hours and a quarter," was the reply; “ but what can 
you expect in weather like this? It will be worse to-morrow." 

Clambering up the gangway to the top of the pier, the voy- 


22 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


agers had no sooner passed the ticket inspectors — simultaneous-’ 
ly clutching their hand-packages, clasping their hats, andt 
producing their tickets — than they found themselves besieged ' 
by the bands of loafers, who, even between midnight and one 
A. M., obstruct the distressed Channel navigator, accost him , 
with cries of “ Portaire,'’^ and endeavor to wrest from him his - 
phantom hand-bag or attenuated portmanteau. Master Bar- • 
tholomew entered the spacious refreshment-room in the center ' 
of a group. They were the latest arrivals, and, after a sec- 
ond's hesitation, he carelessly shaped his path toward an , 
almost unnoticeable table at which a single person had just in- 
stalled himself. Master Bartholomew dropped into the vacant 
place opposite. 

“ How do you feel?^^ asked the other, without looking at 
him. It was the Mr. Pritchard who was bound for the south 
of France. He neither lifted his eyes from the wine-list, nor . 
moved his lips as he spoke. 

“ Feel.^^^ responded Bartholomew, feebly. This is a nice 
business old Clements has sent me after. Why couldnT he > 
come after it himself? You could have done it between you; i 
and I^m sure I needn’t come so far as this, and go through so ? 
much, to find a good piece of work. If he hadn’t paid all my 
expenses, and guaranteed me something handsome when it’s 

all over, I’m d d if I should have stirred a step! I’ve 

been over to Chantilly races and the Grand Prix of Paris, to 
pick up some of the winners, but I never came over before at 
this time of the year. ’Ere, waiter! — gassong ! — give me a 
small bottle of brandy — what do they call it? — connyac ! I’ll 
show them how to speak French! Let’s hope we do get some- 
thing for our trouble. Sir John. ” 

Keep your voice down — and don’t appear to be saying 
much to me. Is your man here?” 

“ Here? Yes, I should think he was here — and drinking 
enough for you and me and him together! Makes me thirsty 
to look at him — unless he’s only pretending to drink. He’s 
just over there — don’t you see?— but there’s something I don’t 
like about it. Looks to me as though he’s ‘ tumbled. ’ See 
him? — there! — he had his eye on both of us. Where’s your 
man?” 

Don’t know,” replied the other, rapidly, attacking the 
comestible deposited before him. “ Watched the private cabin 
as long as I could without attracting attention, but he never 
came out of it that I could see. Wonder whether he knows 
anything? Oh, he’s a clever gentleman, that one is — equal to 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


23 


all the rest of them at Scotland Yard put together! He^s a 
clever gentleman/^ 

‘‘ He^s A1 at the game, and no mistake, answered Bar- 
tholomew, impartially. 

“ So much the worse for us. 

“ Oh, I don^t know! He may be as clever as you. Sir John 
— perhaps cleverer — and he may be cleverer than me, but he 
ain^t more clever than you and me combined, with Grandpa 
thrown in. If we bring it off, and Grandpa meets us at the 
station, as old Clements arranged, it^ll be all right. 

“ Itffl have to be all right. They had better not give us any 
trouble, because they are not in England here.’’^ 

No; and loe ainT in England either. DonT you be in a 
hurry over it now. If we miss it to-day weffl get it to-mor- 
row. And, mind, no putting anybody out in this! I told old 
Clements I wouldn^t be in any putting-out business, and that 
wouldn’t suit his book either. Where’s that connyac 

There seemed less than ever of Mr. Bartholomew in the 
roomy ulster and the soft felt hat. No regard for his personal 
a 2 )pea?ance, however, troubled him. With a zest at least equal 
to that of his companion, he fell- to upon the regulation Calais 
restaurant dish of succulent roast fowl. They were both thus 
engaged silently when the through guard of the tram ap- 
proached Mr. Pritchard, or “ Sir John,” and touched him on 
the shoulder. Mr. Pritchard did not start, and did not look 
up; but he suddenly left off eating and turned rather pale. 
The guard then bent down to him and whispered, confidentially: 
‘^Beg pardon, sir,” he said, “but if you are the passenger 
from Scotland Yard, as that gentleman fancied, here’s another 
telegram from London. I wired to them from Dover, and 
this is a reply to my message — a further telegram, sent on to 
Calais: ‘ Care of through guard, night mail.’ The message to 
me here says they don’t mean the plain-clothes man who 
^ stopped at Dover, and I am to try and deliver this at once. 
No one else has seen the telegram, sir, because, from what 
that gentleman said, I thought perhaps it might be you. ” 

Below the level of the table, out of the general view, he held 
the blue envelope of the French telegraph office. 

Mr. Pritchard cast a rapid glance around him; and young 
Mr. Bartholomew considerately rose from his ' seat to procure 
himself a roll of bread from the adjacent luffet. 

“ Well, yes,” replied Mr. Pritchard, in an under-tone, “ I am 
from Scotland Yard, and the telegram must be something 
urgent for me. I’m on a difficult affair — keep it quiet who I 
am — th^^’ll make it right with you at head-quarters for the 


24 THE rASSEHGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

trouble you have been put to. When do you make the return 
journey?” 

‘‘ By the next night mail from Paris/’ answered the guard, 
unconsciously imitating the quick, subdued utterance of his 
interlocutor. 

‘‘ Present yourself at head-quarters as soon after your return 
as you hke. But keep away from me, or you’ll spoil my 
game. ” 

“ Beg pardon — the same case? — Park Lane?” 

“ Et ccetera.” 

As the guard discreetly sidled away, Mr. Bartholomew re- 
joined his companion, and they continued their repast for a 
minute in silence. 

“ Can’t you open that d d envelope. Jack?” at length 

demanded Mr. Bartholomew, impatiently. 

“ When I get a chance, I can,” said the other. ‘‘ Now, 
then — follow your man! — there he goes. I’ll settle the bill.” 

Mr. Eemington, who had -very deliberately quitted a table 
at some distance from them, now lounged in the direction of 
the doors with a somewhat imnecessary show of nonchalance. 
He had scarcely crossed the threshold when Mr. Bartholomew, 
whose expression of face had become quite wondering and art- 
less — the natural timidity of unprotected, diffident youth, be- 
wildered by unfamiliar surroundings in a foreign land — slipped 
the half-empty bottle of ‘‘ connyac ” into a recess of the 
drooping ulster, and sauntered likewise toward the restaurant 
entrance. 

En voiture pour Paris! En voiture, les voyageurs !” in- 
toned one of the French railway servants. The summons 
created the usual bustle among the passengers. Profiting by 
the opportunity, Mr. Pritchard deftly tore open the envelope 
and surreptitiously perused its contents. 

This is second message to you en route,^^ ran the dispatch. 

Have wired Toppin, our man in Paris, to meet your train, 
and act under your directions. Look out well on the road. 
Ernest Vine, alias Grainger, alias Jack Smith (Golden Square 
case, two years ago), and Bartholomew Finch, alias AValker, 
West End pickpocket, left by night mail with tickets for 
Cannes. Reason to believe they are on business. Find them 
out if possible and don’t lose them. One of Soho gang is 
w^atching your house. Yourself supposed to be in London; 
we have thought it best to wire you in this way, trusting to 
guard’s discretion. You are nominally told olf for London 
duty.” ^ 


THE PASSEKGEE FKOM SCOTLAND YARD. 25 

“ En voiture your Paris Tlie passengers hurried toward 
the platform. 


CHAPTER III. 

The train for Paris was drawn np on the far line of rails, 
and Mr. Remington, surveying the carriages, halted on the 
edge of the platform, to avail himself of the shelter, overhead, 
from the pouring rain. As he stood thus, apparently engrossed 
with the selection of a suitable compartment, two or three fel- 
low-travelers passed him, opened their umbrellas, and stepped 
out briskly across the metals, and through the pools of water, 
in search of the corners in which they -had deposited their 
hand-packages. Mr. Remington scanned each figure that 
moved by him, and did not seem to have secured his own 
place in advance. En voitu-ure I He threw a searching look 
on ail sides, and strode from the edge of the platform on to the 
iron way. He had not noticed an individual who was study- 
ing in a very bad fight a pictorial map of France. 

Mr. Remington ediibited no little fastidiousness in the choice 
of a compartment. Did he wish to travel alone, or was it the 
difficulty of fighting upon a well-filled compartment that em- 
barrassed him? On a long night journey it might be desirable 
to make one of a numerous company. That, however, was 
just the condition which it appeared impossible to realize. 
The passengers were not numerous, and there was no lack of 
empty compartments. But in the first endeavor which he 
made to secure a single place in a row of occupied seats, he 
apparently discovered some personage whom he was seeking 
to avoid; while in a second essay he saw that the allotted num- 
ber was already complete. From identical reasons, doubtless, 
others among the passengers had preferred to travel in a 
numerous company. A couple of porters pushed by him 
wheeling a truck. They had done their portion of the labors 
involved by the arrival of the night mail, and were diverting 
themselves, as they trudged along, at the expense of certain 
voyagers whose sorry plight had attracted their notice. Mr. 
Remington^s indecision proved sufficiently manifest to excite 
the remark of these facile satirists. They commented on it in 
the usual vein of the French working-man, one of whose char- 
acteristics is a total incapacity to attend exclusively to his own 
occupation. 

‘‘Is he slow, hem, that clumsy Englishman “ The rest 
of them will be in Paris by the time he has made his mind 
up.'’^ “ Pai’is can get on without him, allez! Let him stay 


26 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

here, and pay ns a glass each; we^re good enough society for 
him, I should think — a pair of honest Republicans, and 
thirsty!^^ ‘‘What! Isn^t this moisture sufficient for you— a 
night like this?"^ “ Ah, ouatel The more water there is, the 
more liquor you want to make it palatable. Pay me half a 
pint, and Pll be godfather to your next. “ Farceur, va !” 

Mounting hastily the steps of a carriage in response to a 
further summons from the railway officials, Mr. Remington 
found himself face to face with Brother A. Neel, of the 
I. 0. T. A. 

“ Aha!'"’ exclaimed the latter, cordially — “ fellow-travelers, 
after all, sir! I did not see you on the boat, and thought you 
might have decided to stay the night at Dover. 

“ Well, I made up my mind to come on at once,^^ replied 
the other, to all appearance satisfied with his companion. “ I 
shall get back the sooner. W e are more than five hours from 
Paris, and I can sleep better traveling at night than in the 
day-time. 

“ In that you are like myself,'^ said the first, pleasantly. 

Another passenger ascended the steps, and took a place with 
them. It was Bartholomew Finch, alias Walker. Behind 
him came a French official, who demanded their tickets: 

Paris — Paris — Paris — Men!” The official swung on one 
side, slammed the door, and passed along the step to the neigh- 
boring compartments. 

“ They donT lock the doors, I observe!^’ said Brother Neel. 

“No; they just let down a latch outside, below the handle. 
That secures the door, without imprisoning the passenger. ” 

“ All thak’s necessary — and more convenient, remarked 
Brother Neel. 

The engine emitted a despondent squeal and coughed 
asthmatically. Its bronchial tubes had obviously suffered 
from exposure to severe weather. Once on the high-road to 
Boulogne, however, there was no fault to be found with its 
notion of express speed. 

“ Been this way many times before, sir?^^ inquired Mr. 
Remington. 

“ On business of the ‘ lota,^ I usually make the journey by 
this line,^’ replied Brother Neel, effusively. “ ‘ Iota?’ — ah, 
yes, I forgot you were not one of us; that is our familiar ap- 
pellation, our pet name, I may say, for the order in which we 
are enrolled — International Organization of Total Abstainers; 
don’t you see? — an easy abbreviation, which forms at the 
same time a sort of affectionate sobriquet, don’t you know! — 
one of those endearing nicknames which are so often met with 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 27 

among the members of harmonious families. And what is our 
great, our noble order, but a family upOn the widest, the most 
humanitarian scale! The administrative affairs of the ‘ Iota ^ 
do occasionally require my attendance at the Paris branch. 
But that is not the motive of my present visit. No; there are 
certain special aspects of the drink traffic in the French 
metropolis which are capable of emphatically illustrating and 
enforcing the truths of our great cause, and which for our 
purposes have never yet been adequately studied. I have a 
mission to collect material on those aspects of the drink traffic, 
for our lectures and pamphlets and public demonstrations. 
Ah, this is a weighty, a colossal question, sir — it is indeed! 
Think of the correlation between alcoholism and crime! I 
wish — I wish I could induce you to enroll yourself in our valiant 
arniy.^^ 

Very sorry, sir; but it wouldnT suit my constitution! Let 
those do it whom it suits. I donT complain, and I don’t want 
to interfere with them.” 

‘‘ Dear me — dear me! — what a sad and dangerous, what a 
terrible and infinitely perilous frame of mind! I would wager, 
now, that the unfortunate young man whose apprehension wo 
witnessed at Dover was addicted, now, to the use of alcohol. 
I would wager it! When shall we rend our fetters, and free 
ourselves from this gigantic incubus, which is oppressing the 
heart’s blood of civilization, overshadowing its mighty pulses, 
and trailing in the dust and mire the snow-white name of 
Christianity?”^ 

The tumultuous imagery of Brother Neel’s rhetorical en- 
thusiasm appeared to extinguish what powers of rejoinder lay 
at the disposal of Mr. Remington. Their only companion in 
the compartment began to nod, as though he had dropped off 
into a doze. Mr. Remington eyed him sharply, and presently 
allowed his own Lids to fall. Brother Neel stared vaguely at 
the notices in three languages which apprised the isolated and 
imperiled traveler of the means provided to him for insuring 
his personal safety, and which likewise threatened him with 
penalties for making use o£ them. The temperance lecturer 
moved his lips now and then, raised his eyebrows, frowned, 
and slightly tossed his head, as though he were again rehears- 
ing perorations. Thus they ran on till they reached Boulogne, 
the first of the four stoppages on their road to Paris. They 
might have counted upon remaining undisturbed throughout 
the journey; but Mr. Remington, who had got up to consult 
his time-table by the light of a station lamp, was obliged to 


28 


THE PASSEHGER FROM SCOTLAHB YARD. 


give way to allow ingress to a new-comer. It was Ernest 
Vine, alias Grainger, alias, again, Mr. Pritchard. 

The night mail sped out of Boulogne-sur-Mer and turned 
inland, leaving for good the sand-hills of the coast. Its next 
destination was Abbeville; but in spite of the considerable dis- 
tance to be traversed, Mr. Remington ^s faculty for sleeping in 
night journeys by the train seemed to have deserted him. His 
thoughts were evidently as much absorbed as ever by the per- 
sonality of Mr. Pritchard. His eyes resumed their restless ex- 
amination of the hawk-like countenance which, this time at any 
rate, faced, not himself, but another of the travelers — the un- 
dersized tenant of the ample ulster. The new-comer had sunk 
unobtrusively into his place, just as he did at the outset of the 
journey. The cane which he deposited in the rack, above his 
head, had decidedly the aspect of a sword-stick; the small 
black bag upon his knees might have held conveniently a pair 
^of hand-culfs and a revolver; it seemed almost a pity that he 
Was Mr. Pritchard, bound for the south of France, and not, 
as the observer had too readily suspected, the passenger from 
Scotland Yard. Mr. Remington drew forth his pocket-flask, 
and took a plentiful draught. 

“ Abbeville shouted a porter, as they ran into a dismal 
station, hardly anything of which was visible in the darkness 
of the night. “Abbeville, Abbeville!’^ echoed faintly do\vn 
the platform. The train came to a stand-still; Mr. Remington 
folded his rug over one arm; and in another moment the door 
was hanging open, and there were only three passengers in the 
compartment. The celerity with which he had accomplished 
this exit was remarkable in a gentleman of his size. W ith an 
almost equal celerity, however. Brother Heel stepped out after 
him. The temperance lecturer had, indeed, hesitated an in- 
stant, but a glance at the two traveling companions who were 
left to him apparently sufficed to lead him to a prompt de- 
cision. 

When Brother Heel alighted on the Abbeville platform the 
French guard was already signaling the train onward. He 
made for the only other carriage door which hung open, and 
found himself again alone with Mr. Remington. The night 
mail dashed away in the direction of Amiens. 

“ I did not like the look of those men,^^ said Mr. Reming- 
ton, somewhat embarrassed. 

“ Hor did I myself, I am hound to confess,^ ^ replied Broth- 
er Heel; “ and 1 thought I would follow yom* example. One 
may be doing them an injustice; but — well, there! I did not 
like their look. 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 29 

Not that I ever make these long journeys with large sums 
of money about me. I buy in rather extensive quantities, but 
I always pay my dealers in Paris by draft on an English bank- 
ing-house which has a Paris branch. I never travel with much 
more than the small change absolutely necessary. In fact, I 
lost over the last transaction in the Paris market, and trade 
has been so bad that I had thought it hardly worth while com- 
ing over to buy. 

Dear me! And do they consider this line to the north at 
all insecure.^ I mean — the cases of outrage, and so forth, on 
the French railway systems — the cases we have read of in the 
public press: are they associated, now, with this line at all?^-’ 

‘‘The northern line? Oh, no! I should say that the 
southern and eastern railways of France are more dangerous, 
but there was a mysterious case some time ago on a western 
line; it was never cleared up.'’^ 

“ A case of — 

“ Murder!^" 

“ Bless me — now, really! Well, well. It would not in the 
least surprise me if that Mr. Pritchard, as he calls himself, 
were a detective officer after all, though I don’t know why he 
should deny it. But those men love to make a little mystery; 
it attracts attention to them, flatters their vanity, and makes 
them appear important even when they have achieved noth- 
ing.” 

“You seem to know them, sir,” said Mr. Kemington, with a 
smile. / 

“ Oh, very slightly, very slightly, I assure you. But one of 
our dear friends — not a colleague in the I. 0. T. A., but a 
brother lecturer in the temperance cause, a worthy, dear 
friend he was, and an able — almost fell a victim some few 
years ago to the malice and obstinacy of one of these men, and 
none of us, I am sure, are ever likely to forget the event. For 
my part, I must say that I regard the companionship of de- 
tective officers as little less compromising than that of crimi- 
nals. Who knows where detectives have sprung from? They 
do say that ex-thieves make the very best thief-takers. Im- 
agine honest people at the mercy of an ex-criminal! The pain- 
ful case of my worthy dear friend inspired me with an aversion 
for the entire class, although there are members of the detect- 
ive force enrolled in our organizations.” 

“ Well, if that man isn’t from Scotland Yard I’m greatly 
mistaken. He has quite the cut of it; and they go wrong so 
often — as in the case you speak of — that I am glad to be out 
of his company.” 


30 


THE PASSEHGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


The conversation drifted into general topics. While thus 
engaged they were both startled momentarily by the sudden 
appearance of a head at the window. 

Oh, the ticket inspector, of course exclaimed Mr. Eem- 
ington, laughing jovially. 

What — once more?'’^ said Brother Neel. 

“ The last time on the journey/^ exclaimed the other. 

The inspection of the tickets was performed as usual by the 
French guard of the train, who passed from compartment to 
compartment, opening the doors easily and closing them again 
quietly, as the mail rushed at its fastest rate toward Paris. 
Brother Neel remarked upon the possible danger of this opera- 
tion, on a night, as he said with striking originality, dark as 
Erebus but Mr. Eemington assured him that the process 
was the simplest thing in the world, and that there were de- 
tails in the construction of the carriages wliich expressly facili- 
tated it. 

“ What other stoppages lay before usf^'’ asked the temper- 
ance lecturer. 

“ Two more, between this and Paris, replied his comj)anion 
— ‘‘ Amiens and Oreil. At Amiens we get from five to fifteen 
minutes, according to the time of the train, and we^re late to- 
night, or rather this morning. At Creil we only touch. 

Mr. Eemington forthwith disposed himself comfortably for 
a nap. Brusquely opening his eyes after a silence of ten or 
twelve minutes, he found his traveling companion so intently 
observing him that he became all at once wide awake again. 
Was it curiosity, calculation — or what — that he read for an in- 
stant, an instant only, in the square face opposite him? Broth- 
er Neel met his anxious and surprised scrutiny with the air of 
bland attention which appeared to be his professional manner. 
Mr. Eemington changed his position, and did not again close 
his eyes. 

They ran into the spacious Amiens station. • “ Just time to 
cross to the buffet, muttered Mr. Eemington, after listening 
to the announcement of the porters. He descended from the 
carriage, but did not cross to the buffet. He loitered on the 
platform for a moment, and then proceeded to a different car- 
riage altogether. The fresh compartment he chose, however, 
appeared to have been selected by other people, also desirous 
of seeking other places. Mr. Pritchard, fianked by Bartholo- 
mew Finch, alias Walker, clambered up the step, and dehber- 
ately took the two corner seats at the entrance. Calling to a 
railway official that he had mistaken his compartment, Mr. 
Eemington had just time to descend again, and grasp the 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND TARD. 31 

handle of a neighboring door. The official grumbled at him 
in his native tongue, and helped him up as the train began to 
move. 

“ It^’s no go till we get there/^ pronounced one of the two 
persons he had so promptly deserted, Mr. Finch, videlicet — 
he has ‘ tumbled ^ to something — ^that^s sure!'’^ 

“ He can ‘ tumble ^ to what he likes, now,^^ responded the 
other. ‘‘ I^m going to get it before I leave this train. 

“ ^Ere — mind what I said,^^ urged Mr. Finch; “ no putting 
him out!^^ 

“ Ho putting him out? Well, how do you think we are go- 
ing to get it?"^ savagely retorted Vine, alias Grainger, speak- 
ing nevertheless in a very low tone. ‘‘ Do you suppose he’s 
going to put his hand into his pocket and pull out a velvet 
case with £20,000 worth in it, and pass it over?” 

“ Well, you can wait a few hours, or a day or so, can’t you? 
Anyhow, I won’t be in this if there’s to be any putting out. ” 

“ Perhaps you’d like to wait until the property has gone out 
of his possession, and they have all three of them shared the 
money? Perhaps you’d like to pick his pocket nice and com- 
fortably, and get his purse with a ten-pound note in it, instead 
of the small fortune Clements promised? There are three of 
them in this, and it’s as clear as day. The secretary hangs 
about the liouse in Park Lane shortly before the night of the 
robbery. The robbery takes place, and the secretary goes 
away in a suspicious manner. The other two then put the 
police on him; the butler pretends to have reason for believ- 
ing that Sinclair means to go by Dover to the Continent; they 
send him down in the morning, and he waits for the arrival of 
the train with the plain-clothes man who has followed Sin- 
clair in the hope of dropping across confederates. At Dover 
he identifies the secretary, and the police make the arrest. Of 
course the secretary has been searched by this time, and they’ve 
not found anything; and, of course, as to the robbery in Park 
Lane, he’ll have a perfect aliU. By the time Sinclair had 
been released, in default of evidence, the property was to have 
been got rid of; and this is the man who was to have got rid 
of it. I thought at first that this man and the butler were 
doing it between them, but I see all three are in it. Wait a 
few hours! And what about Byde — what chance should we 
have when we get to Paris? There’s a man I toill put out 
some day, if he causes me much trouble — Mr. Inspector Byde! 
He hasn’t recognized either you or me, but it was a lucky 
thing I got that telegram. It isn’t the first time I’ve been 
taken for a detective, but it’s the first time I said I wasn’t one. 


32 


THE PASSEKGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


We shall have to look sharp about getting out of the Paris 
station. If Byers isn’t there to meet us we must get away 
without him. ” 

“ Grandpa’s certain to he there, if he said he would. What 
is the other place we stop at?” 

“ Creil,” answered tha pseudo Mr. Pritchard, referring to a 
small train bill; ‘‘ and after Creil there is a clear run of fifty 
minutes to Paris. We must do it between Creil and Paris.” 

The night mail had not altogether made up its arrear when 
it emerged from the darkness enveloping the entrance to the 
northern terminus at Paris, and placidly stole into the feebly 
lighted station. Beyond the barrier, where the railway serv- 
ants posted themselves for collecting the tickets, there was the 
customary assemblage, even at that early hour, of persons 
awaiting the arrival of their friends. The few passengers de- 
scended gladly enough, and straggled along the platform to- 
ward the ticket-gates. The supposititious Mr. Pritchard passed 
through among the first. Not far behind him came Mr. 
Finch in one of the folds of his flapping ulster; and then fol- 
lowed a knot of dazed voyagers, confused with the abrupt, 
change, but making blindly for the nearest exit. After these 
marched Brother Neel, erect and deliberate, not to say por- 
tentous, but pale from the fatigues of traveling. The railway 
officials lingered at their posts for a few seconds, and then, 
one after the other, closed the gates of the slight barrier. All 
the voyagers had evidently passed through. Mr. Kemington, 
however, had not been one of the voyagers who had passed 
through. 


CHAPTER IV. 

Amohg the persons assembled at the Nord terminus, to 
meet the passengers by the overnight London mail, there was 
a rather tall, fairly good-looking young man, of decidedly 
British aspect, who, instead of joining the group just outside 
the barrier, had preferred to remain within the spacious but 
barn-like waiting-room, from whose glass partition he could 
easily survey the arrivals, without being distinctly seen him- 
self. From the point at which he was placed, the end ticket 
collector stood almost within arm’s reach, although, of course, 
they were separated by the partition. The lamps which aided 
the collectors in their work, facilitated the scrutiny directed 
by this sturdily built young man upon the faces of the voy- 
agers, as the latter approached, delivered their tickets, and filed 


THE PASSEKGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


33 


past. So absorbed was he by his occupation that he did not 
perceive a trifling incident of Avhich the waiting-room was the 
scene^ and in which he himself appeared to play an uncon- 
scious part. Had he been free to observe that incident^ he 
might, no doubt, have deemed it worthy of attention, slight 
though it seemed. An elderly gentleman who had come up 
in great haste, as if in fear of arriving too late for the pas- 
sengers by the train, was hurrying across the waiting-room, 
when he caught sight of the solitary watchman at the glass 
partition. The elderly gentleman immediately pulled up 
short, and retraced his steps with redoubled speed. Turning 
to the left, he trotted into the station court-yard, where the 
cabs and luggage omnibuses were beginning to bestir them- 
selves, and, veering again to the left, he got to the outer doors 
as the first of the departing travelers passed through the hands 
of the revenue officials. The latter proceeded to put their 
usual questions to the possessors of hand-packages. Vine, alias 
Grainger, was requested to exhibit the interior of the small 
black bag. "Whatever might have been its contents, they were 
clearly not contraband goods, and the owner of the bag at 
once turned to the right and moved toward the station gates. 
Mr. Finch followed closely upon his heels, wearing an air which 
seemed to say he knew he was in a foreign land, and unpro- 
tected, but that he rather knew his way about, for all that. 

The elderly gentleman stayed for a few moments facing the 
threshold, scanned one or two of the figures pushing out, and 
then in a disappointed manner returned in the direction of the 
court-yard gates. A porter called to him that the majority of 
the passengers had not yet issued forth, but the other was ap- 
parently hard of hearing. “ Old imbecile added the porter, 
looking after him. At the station gates the elderly gentleman 
overtook our two acquaintances, and passed them hastily. He 
traversed the wide street, made for the corner of the Rue 
Lafayette, dived into this thoroughfare, and presently arrested 
his course in front of a cab which stood drawn up by the 
pavement. The cabman had descended from his box, and 
was stamping his feet and striking liis gloved hands together. 
The elderly gentleman opened the door of the vehicle, and 
told the man to drive to the Central Markets. As he held the 
door open. Vine, alias G rainger, or Pritchard, came up with 
Mr. Finch. 

“ After you. Grandpa,'’^ said Mr. Finch, politely. 

“Now then. Bat, jump in,^'’ growled Vine, alias Grainger. 
“We donT know who^’s behind us."’"’ 

“ Iffii behind you, for one,^^ returned Mr. Finch, with 


34 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

cheerful humor. “ In you get, Grandpa — age before honesty! 
I^m going to try a glass of this hot stuff. 

A vender of steaming black coffee had installed himself some 
yards away. 

‘‘ Jump up, will you?^^ repeated the other, fiercely. 

“ Look here, Bat,^^ said their elderly companion, rapidly, 

we don^t want any of this — game!^'’ 

“ All right — all right, responded Mr. Finch, imperturba- 
bly; “ but if clever Mr. Sir John here ain't brought it off, as 
he says he ain't, I want to know what we've got to be in a 
hurry about. " 

“Not brought it off! Bo you mean to say you've not 
brought it off, John?'"' inquired Grandpa, anxiously. 

The object of his query had already seated himself in the 
cab, and for all answer urged the other two, with an oath, to 
mount beside him. 

“ Not me!" responded Mr. Finch, with calmness. “ A nice 
thing this is! Here's a man I'm sent to do a bit of business 
with, and, when we get the chance to do it, he says he thinks 
he can manage it better by himself. I let him go and do it, 
because so long as it's got, whether he does it or I do it, I have 
my terms from old Clements, don't I? Well, I bar putting 
out, and he agrees; and then he gets out of the compartment 
to go and do it, and I never see him again until we both get 
out at Parry, just this instant. And then, when I ask him 
about it, he says he ain't brought it off. A nice thing this is! 
I thought I was working with a clever man. If he ain't 
brought it off, what are we to run away for? Where's the 
man we've come after — why ain't we following him? What 
could you want better than this!" 

He glanced upward at the sky. The rain had ceased, but it 
was still quite dark. Grandpa put his head inside the cab. 

“ Have you missed it — yes or no?" he demanded, curtly. 

“Yes," was the reply, emphasized with an imprecation. 

“ Then where is he?" 

“Where is he!" The speaker made a gesture which was 
lost in the gloom. “ Stop here as long as you like," he add- 
ed, savagely, “but don't blame me if you get taken." 

“Why, John, you alarm me! Get in. Bat; we'll have an 
explanation as we go along. There's evidently something very 
wrong with this affair." 

The vehicle started on its journey toward the Central 
Markets. 

“Yes, we've got nothing, and appearances are all against 
us," resumed Vine, alias Grainger; “ but I know where to 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


35 


look for it, if we can get clear now, and find the man out 
afterward. He sprung up from the seat and looked through 
the small pane of glass at the back of the carriage. “I 
thought so!"^ he exclaimed, excitedly; there^s a cab follow- 
ing us.^^ 

“ AVhy, who can be in it?’^ said Grandpa. 

‘‘ Byde of Scotland Yard came down from London to Dover. 
He hid himself on the Channel boat, and we haven’t seen him 
since. I’ll lay a thousand he has come through, and if he^s 
in that cab he’ll never leave us.” 

AVon’t he!” said Grandpa, rendered extremely serious by 
the name his companion had pronounced. He won’t leave? 
Oh, oh! we shall have to be severe with Inspector Byde. But, 
before I take steps of any kind, I must know exactly how this 
matter stands; because, if you’re not dealing fair and square 
with me, you don’t go any further in my cab. Inspector Byde 
may be after you, and the whole of the French police as well, 
for all I care; I don’t move a step for a man who doesn’t deal 
fair and square. AVhen I undertook this business with Clem- 
ents, I stipulated that there was to be nothing previously 
against either of the men who were coming over. I am not 
going to be compromised for a single moment, remember that 
plainly. If you were not wanted for anything up to eight 
o’clock last night, when you left London by the n?ail, why 
should you be running away from InsiDector Byde, or any one 
else, this morning? How can it matter to either of you who is 
in that cab — come?” Mr. Finch kicked viciously at the foot- 
warmer lying in the well of the conveyance. Sir John made no 
answer. ‘‘Surely,” pursued the elderly gentleman, in a 
softer tone, “ surely you are not thinking to bamboozle Grand- 
pa? Is that it? Is that a sort of little game that yo^l would 
try on, Bartholomew Finch, alias AValker, late of the Old 
Bailey, and formerly of Cler ken well Court House?” 

“Me?” replied the youth thus interrogated; “not me! 
Bamboozle yoii^, Grandpa? Hot me! — no! — ^not me, Mr. AV^il- 
kms!” 

“ AYell — is it a sort of little game that you would try on, 
Mr. Ernest Vine, of Clements & Company? Do you tliink I 
should stand that, John — do you think any man of my years 
and experience could put up with it? I give you half a minute 
to turn it over in your mind. ” ^ 


tell 

?” 


Sir John sat up straight with a ]erk, and pulled on the : 
tipped glove of Ins right hand. 

“Get us home,” he exclaimed, sullenly, “and I will 
you the whole story. Does that look like bamboozling you 


36 THE PASSEKGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

He opened liis right hand ^vide. The fingers and palm were 

smeared with blood. „ j. n 

‘‘ AVe must throw this cab off at once, if it s really following 
us,^" said Grandpa, promptly. He stood up and glanced 
through the small pane of glass. “ Yes— we are being fol- 
lowed. However, weTl soon set that little matter right."" He 
twisted the button which sounded the bell signal to the driver. 

‘‘ Stop at the first wiiie-shoj) or cafe you find open,"" he called, 
in ready but Britannic French. 

A little further on the cabman pulled up in front of a small 
wine-shop, which apparently had not long before been throwm 
open. Grandpa stepped out of the vehicle and bade his com- 
panions follow him. 

“ AVhat"s this?"" demanded Sir John, suspiciously, 

“ The shortest way. All you have to do is to follow me, 
and look, sharp about it. I dare say I can get you out of this 
for the present; but whatever happens, 1 mustn"t be seen. "" 
Grandpa muffled himself up so closely that his short white 
whiskers and fresh, pink cheeks almost entirely disappeared. 
Darting across the pavement into the wine- shop, he gave an 
order at the counter, and took his seat in a nook removed from 
general observation. He then directed Mr. Bartholomew to 
watch the movements of the other vehicle. ‘‘ It can only be a 
case of ^precaution, whatever it is,"" he added, ‘‘or we should 
have been stopped immediately. "" 

An unwashed waiter in his shirt-sleeves brought the blot- 
ting-pad and writing materials of the establishment. AVhile 
Grandpa proceeded to address an envelope, the waiter returned 
sleepily with their glasses of hot black coffee. He was blink- 
ing and yawning, and stumbled against Mr. Bartholomew 
Finch as the latter sauntered from the threshold toward his 
companions. 

“ The cab has pulled up a short distance away, and no one 
has got out of it,"" he reported. 

“ There" s no doubt about it, then,"" said Grandpa. 

He was manifestly taking great pains to disguise the hand- 
writing of the address, but there his trouble ended. The sheet . 
of paper which he folded and inclosed within the envelope was 
blank. The postage-stamp requisite he obtained on paying at 
the counter. Remounting the cab. Grandpa gave the order to 
continue toward the Central Markets. 

“ They "re after us,"" announced Mr. Finch, who had ap- 
plied his eye to the small glass pane. 

Tlie ajjproaches to the Halles were impeded with the carts 
and wagons which, laden with all kinds of provisions, wend 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


37 


their way every morning to these vast Central Markets. 
Grandpa shouted a precise direction to their coachman, and 
they soon found themselves involved in long lines of vehicles 
converging toward a particular point. Reaching a large corner 
tavern, thronged with market-gardeners, butchers, poulterers, 
and other people whose avocations brought them regularly to 
the Halles, the cabman slackened his pace, but a further order 
was shouted to him to turn the corner and to come to a stand- 
still at the other entrance. 

“ It^s almost unnecessary,'’^ murmured the spry, elderly gen- 
tleman, as he peeped once more through the square of glass; 

they seem to have lost us as it is.'’-’ Obeying his instruc- 
tions, nevertheless, the driver turned the corner, and drew up 
at one of the tavern entrances on the other side. Grandpa 
promptly hopped out of the carriage, and closed the door the 
moment he had been followed by his companions. ‘‘ Go back 
to the Gare du Nord,-’^ said he, handing the coachman the en- 

’ ’ ’ ^ ' -I T — ‘«gQ ]3ack as fast as 



station letter-box; it will be in 


time for the foreign mail if you post it there at once.^^ 

The gratuity with which he accompanied the payment of the 
iares must have been considerable, for the coachman whipped 
his horse generously, and at once set off with an edifying show 
of zeal. The incident had been managed with dispatch, and 
Grandpa drew the others after him into the midst of the groups 
^encumbering the pathway. The market-people, imbibing their 
fetit noir, or their morning nip of rum, were noisily discuss- 
ing prices, or joking, and fencing at bargains. As the cab 
just quitted made its way through the labyi’inth of country 
carts and barrows, the other vehicle appeared at the corner, 
hemmed in for an instant by a couple of heavy wagons. Both 
windows of the cab were down, and the three watchers could 
distinctly see the whole of the interior. The vehicle had but 
a single occupant. He was gazing anxiously about him, and 
presently leaned out of the far side to indicate the departing 
cab to his own coachman. 

Vine, alias Grainger, and Mr. Finch, stared at each other 
with astonishment. 

‘‘ What has he got to do with us?^^ demanded Bartholomew; 

I never saw him before!^'’ 

“ It isn’t Byde, that’s one thing,” returned Mr. Vine; “ and 
so long as he isn’t Byde, I don’t care who he is. Do you know 
him. Grandpa?” 

I have that distinguished pleasure,” replied their elderly 
friend, shooting his shirt-cud; “ yes, my boys, I do know the 


38 THE PASSEHGEE FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

gentleman, altliongli up to tlie ]) resent time of day the gentle- 
man does not know me. That is Toppin — Mr. Toppin De- 
tective Toppin: a praiseworthy, active, and conscientious offi- 
cer kept in Paris by Scotland Yard. Toppin is full of ardor, 
and will, no doubt, improve. But he is not yet what we under- 
stand by a ‘ flyer;" no— Toppin isn"t a flyer! He"ll follow that 
cab — oh, he won"t lose sight of that cab! — he "11 follow that 
cab, I dare say, till the cabman takes it home to-night. He"li 
go right back to the northern terminus, Toppin will— right 
back to where he came from!"" 

How do you know he came from the northern terminus?"" 

Because I saw him there, my httle dears! He was there 
to meet your train, and if, as you say, Byde was a traveler by 
the night mail, he was most likely there to meet his eminent 
and res^Dected l)ut not necessarily infallible colleague. Inspector 
Byde. And yon may take your oath, boys, that Byde has sent 
him after you — perhaps on the •off-chance, perhaps not. We 
can make our minds up when we hear your little story, John."" 

“That"s all very well, Byers,"" said Vine, alias Grainger, 
with another look of suspicion; “ but what did you put in that 
letter?"" 

“ A sheet of note-paper with nothing on it,"" responded 
Grandpa — “ and on the envelope I put a fancy address, in a 
disguised handwriting. Suppose the man goes back to the 
station and drops it in the letter-box — no harm is done. Sup- 
pose he simply drops it in the first letter-box he comes to — no 
harm is done. Supj^ose he forgets to post it altogether, as he 
may do — for I didn"t ask him for his ticket — and intoxicates 
himself on the tip I gave him — no harm is done: and Mr. Top- 
pin will have to do the best he can. Well, now, we needn"t 
drink anything here; in fact, we could n"t get attended to, if 
we wanted anything. I will take you to your hotel — a snug 
little place out of the way. There "s blood on that handker- 
chief of yours. Jack; keep it out of sight!"" 


CHAPTER V. 

While Mr. Byers — to adopt the name under which Grandpa 
had been interrogated by Vine, alias Grainger — was inscribing 
an apocryphal address upon the envelope containing a blank 
sheet of paper, a gentleman who had just taken up his quar- 
ters at the Terminus Hotel, nearly opposite the Gare du Nord, 
proceeded to indite an epistle which threatened, on the con- 
trary, to extend to rather formidable dimensions. He was one 


THE PASSEKGEE FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


39 


of the travelers by the night mail from London, and he had a 
letter to send olf by the return post, he informed the obsequious 
waiter of the hotel cafe ; for this reason he would be glad of 
writing materials at once, and would defer partaking of the 
refreshments so glibly enumerated until his important missive 
had been sent on its way. Oh, but monsieur had plenty of 
time! Monsieur could post at the station letter-box just across 
the road up to a few minutes before the departure of the mail. 
With that fact he was perfectly well acquainted, replied the 
monsieur; that fact alone had impelled liim to put up at the 
establishment, seeing that when he had breakfasted there once 
before they had served him a beefsteak which was a calumny 
upon the Continent. Ah! monsieur was English? — American? 
“ Bring me the largest sheet of paper in the establishment.^^ 
A very large sheet of paper — certainly, monsieur. Oh, he 
knew England well, the waiter did, having passed a year in 
Battersea to learn the tongue— Battersea — monsieur knew that 
quarter, perhaps? A very nice quarter. Oh, yes, very nice, 
very handsome! A large sheet of paper, was it not? Imme- 
diately, monsieur! White paper or blue? — because if monsieur 
wanted blue they had none. Ah, it did not matter? — blue, 
green, or yellow — precisely : monsieur being in a hurry. There 
was nearly an hour and a half yet before the departure of the 
morning mail — plenty of time! Where he was in Battersea 
they served great number of beefsteaks — steak-and-potate — 
and great quantity chocolate, and ices. The air of Battersea 
was not too active, and suited him; but having learned the 
tongue, he came back to a situation to speak English toward 
English and American visitors, though monsieur himself spoke 
French very nice — oh, yes, indeed, very nicefully! 

The calligraphy of this early arrival at the Terminus Hotel 
was of a character that might have secured for him the second 
or even the first prize for penmanship in the most genteel of 
suburban collegiate schools for young gentlemen. How beau- 
tifully regular the lines! — how fine the up-strokes! — and the 
down-strokes, how symmetrically swelling and how firm! And 
the fingers that guided the pen through such elegant small- 
hand and such even text were those of a middle-aged man who 
did not in the least look like a school-master, or like any other 
sort of person accustomed to set copies for his livelihood. The 
phrases, too, which he had uttered in the language of the coun- 
try had almost merited the encomium they had received. They 
were undoubtedly of a quality to earn the French prize at the 
suburban collegiate school. The gentleman in question wrote 
his letter and spoke his French a little laboriously, perhaps. 


40 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAXD YARH. 

but then he did not make a single blot upon the paper, and in 
what he said there was not one grammatical mistake. 

He began by placing the superscription on the envelope; 
and it ran as follows, after the name of the recipient with a 
sub-line beneath it : 

‘‘ Criminal Investigation Department, Great Scotland Yard, 
London, S. 

The exact terms of the epistle itself were the following: 

“ Wilmot (Park Lane) Affair. — This case has taken an un- 
expected turn. In accordance with my instructions, yesterday 
afternoon I endeavored without delay to ascertain the move- 
ments of Samuel Eemington. He made no attempt to avoid 
observation, and talked freely with neighbors on the subject of 
the robbery. He expressed great sympathy for the friends of 
Sinclair, and deplored for their sake the impossibility of keep- 
ing the affair out of the papers. 

“ Eemington has been in the habit for some time past of 
visiting Paris for the purposes of his business two or three 
times a year. He was regretting yesterday that his periodical 
journey to the Continent should compel him to absent himself 
for a few days at this juncture, and owing to the slackness of 
trade would apparently have relinquished the journey had it 
not been for a substantial order telegraphed to him by a coun- 
try client. With the assistance of Sergeant Bell I found that 
an order had, as a matter of fact, been telegraphed to him. 
The telegram, however, came from. Dover, a coincidence which 
the department will appreciate. Sergeant Bell undertakes to 
obtain the name given by the sender, and this part of the in- 
quiry I have left in his charge. Eemington made appoint- 
ments in London for the end of the week. I found that his 
present visit to Paris was a month in advance of his usual visit 
at this time of the year. 

“ He left hi? residence at 7:15 p. m., and I followed him to 
Charing Cross. He had no luggage but a valise. He took a 
return ticket to Paris, and I looked after him and got a seat in 
the same compartment. , It was evident that he did not sus- 
pect me of watching him; at. the same time ho seemed to be 
uneasy, and, from ^yhat I could divine, had expected to see 
some one at the station who did not put in an appearance. 

“ Three other persons presently entered the compartment 
at short intervals. The first I fancy I must have seen some- 
where ; he had the look of a flash tliief , but I had no reason for 
suspecting him. The second I did not know at all; but the 
third, who arrived just before the departure of the train, I feel 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 41 

certain I have met at some time or other. It was annoying to 
be unable to fix his identity, though I felt that if my impres- 
sion Avith regaid to this man were right, it could not be recent- 
ly that I had come across him. 

“ Eemington compromised himseK repeatedly on the way 
down. From the first he seemed to be convinced that he was 
being watched by the man I have just referred to — the last of 
the other three passengers. In his anxiety to test the correct- 
ness of his suspicion, he broached the subject of the robbery 
himself, and during the conversation which ensued upon it 
hardly removed his eyes from the man^s face. Sinclair was 
promptly taken into custody at Dover, and Eemington pro- 
fessed to condole with him as he went by on the platform. At 
Dover Pier Station the guard of the train came to our compart- 
ment as well as to others, with a telegram addressed to the 
‘Passenger from Scotland Yard,^ care of himself, at DoA^er 
Pier. As Eemington plainly had no notion Avhatever of my 
own identity, I thought it better not to claim the telegram — 
to risk its loss rather than open his eyes, especially as it was 
competent for me to wire for its contents directly I got free. 
I therefore allowed the message to go by. I trust that the 
course I took may occasion no inconvenience, but I was 
strengthened in the resolve I arrived at by certain symptoms 
on the part of two among thd other travelers. It will be re- 
membered that the case placed in my hands was one of the 
vaguest suspicion only. If Sinclair was the thief, and Eem- 
ington was really his confederate, the former had probably 
hidden the diamonds among common goods and thus forAvard- 
ed them by parcels delivery to an address in Paris, Avhere Eem- 
ington would call for them. Such, as I understood it, was the 
theory. With Sinclair denounced by Eemington, the latter 
would not readily be suspected of complicity with him. No 
evidence Avould be forthcoming against Sinclair, and in the 
meantime Eemington would get the property off his hands. I 
hope the department may agree that I Avas right to preserve 
my incognito. 

“ Following Eemington on board the channel boat, I fancied 
•I saw grounds for believing that he was, in fact, being watched 
by the man above referred to, Avhom I likewise detected in 
secret communication Avith the (presumably) flash pickpocket 
Avho had traveled in the same carriage. I Avas uncertain how 
far I might be- known to one of these individuals, if not to 
both, and for that reason decided to keep out of sight if possi- 
ble during the rest of the journey. On the assumption that 
the theory we have acted upon Avas Avell fomided, it appeared 


42 THE PASSEKGEK FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

to niG that thesG two individuals — about whose character the 
more I saw of them the less I entertained a doubt— had by 
some means or other got wind of the object of Remington s 
journey. It appeared to me that if I should trace Remington 
to any Paris address where a package was awaiting him, I 
should most probably discover that he had been likewise traced 
thither by those two men. But while I was concealing my 
own whereabouts from them I inevitably lost sight of their 
movements a good deal. At Amiens, looking along the train, 
I saw Remington descend from his compartment, but only for 
a moment, the stoppage being of less than the ordinary dura- 
tion. 

“ On our arrival at the Northern terminus, Paris, I watched 
each passenger through the gates, the two men I speak of with 
the rest. To my surprise. Remington did not pass out. Toj^ 
pin, however, at once came up with both the telegrams dis- 
patched to him by the department, the second containing the 
substance of the message to myself which had miscarried. It 
was then ‘that I recollected the man who ostensibly proved the 
alibi in the Golden Square case, two years ago — Vine, alias 
Grainger. I had just time to point him out to Toppin; and 
in view of the reiterated directions by telegram, Toppin hast- 
ened after Vine and his comjDanion, to make sure of their 
whereabouts in case of need. I now await his return. 

“ While the last few travelers who had brought heavy lug- 
gage with them were going out of the gates, after the examina- 
tion of their trunks by the custom house officers, a porter ran 
to the entrance of the platform with the news that a dead 
body had. been found in one of the carriages. From Boulogne 
the passengers had not been numerous, and a considerable 
l^roportion of the compartments were unoccupied. On our 
arrival at Paris, therefore, several of the doors remained closed 
until the porters went through the train, and it was while this 
operation was being performed that the corpse was discovered. 

Conjecturing from Remington^s non-appearance that the 
body might be his, I made myself known to the English 
through guard.^ He was astonished when I showed him my 
card, for, influenced by a remark made, tentativelv, perhaps, 
by Remington at Dover Pier, he had taken the man Vine for 
an officer of the department, and, upon finding a second tele- 
gram at Calais, had privately addressed himself to that indi- 
vidual. Vine profited by the error to obtain possession of the 
message, enjoining the guard to say and do notliing that might 
hamper him in his imaginary mission. Of the contents of that 
second message I am necessarily ignorant, but presume it 


THE PASSEKGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


43 


warned me of the departure of two suspicious characters by the 
night mail, in the same terms as the telegram care of Toppin. 
Consequently, Vine and Finch have known, since the stoppage 
at Calais, that the department is aware of their leaving by the 
mail, and that a special detective officer has been told off to 
act with Toppin, of Paris. They may or may not guess at a 
connection between my errand and the Wilmot case; and, on 
the other hand, one can only guess at present that between 
their own errand and the Wilmot case there may have been 
some connection. The theory implicating Remington was one 
of the vaguest, when submitted to ourselves; how can it have 
passed into the cognizance of men like Vine and Finch? Upon 
this point an idea occurs to me which, when matured, I will 
communicate to the department. It is unfortunate that the 
inax.lvertence I describe should have happened. Under the cir- 
cumstances, however, it was perhaps natural enough. It was 
vital that my presence should not be known to the joarty or 
parties; the department wished urgently to communicate with 
me, but preferred to avoid mentioning my name; Vine was 
mistrusted by Remington, and was indicated to the guard as 
possibly the passenger he was looking for; and the guard sub- 
sequently inquired in private of Vine himself whether such was 
not the case. That Vine should have answered falsely in the 
affirmative implies, to my mind, that he and his companion 
had come on business. 

‘‘ It seems that the searching of the early morning trains, 
on the descent of the passengers, is often performed in a care- 
less manner, and has sometimes been postponed for fully an 
hour. In the present instance the searching had begun some 
ten or twelve minutes after the delivery of the tickets. The 
news of the discovery was carried to the police commissary at- 
tached to the terminus; it was only by the aid of the through 
guard that I was enabled to get a view of the body before the 
arrival of that functionary. As I expected, the dead man was 
Samuel Remington. 

“ The deceased was in a recumbent position, with his head 
supported by a shawl rolled up to form a pillow. He was 
lying on his right side along the seat nearest to the engine, 
with his feet only an inch or two from the door. In the left 
temple there was a bullet w'ound from a fire-arm of small cali- 
ber, and I should say that he was perhaps asleep until the mo- 
ment before the injury was inflicted. The features were not 
distorted, but wore an expression of surprise; his right arm 
was doubled up under him, and his left arm had been thrown 
back and lay extended behind liim. The flow of blood had 


44 THE PASSEHGEE FROM SCOTLAND TARD. 

not been copious, but there were blood-stains about his clothes 
and elsewhere. His traveling-cloak and undercoat were unbut- 
toned, one of the cloth buttons of the latter garment lying on 
the seat, at the back, as though the coat had been wrenched 
violently open. He wore a sealskin vest, of which only the top 
buttons were unfastened; but a left-hand breast-pocket in the 
lining of the vest had apparently been turned inside out, and 
was torn at one of the edges. I had not many moments allowed 
me for seizing these details. My examination was quite irregu- 
lar, and I was stopped as I attempted to carry it further. But 
I was able to note that rings were on the fingers of the right 
hand, which was ungloved, that the watch and chain had not 
been taken, and that there was money — to what amount I 
could not ascertain — in the pockets. With regard to the 
breast-pocket, it was noticeable that the torn edge was at the 
left or upper corner, not at the right or lower corner. By a 
better hght it would have been possible to pronounce at once 
whether the threads had been recently severed or not; but, 
apart from this, it would seem as though the material must 
have been torn from above, clearly not by the deceased him- 
self, who, in depositing articles in this pocket or withdrawing 
them, would use his right hand, and of the two corners would 
usually catch the right or lower one. I need hardly add that 
there were no evidences of any struggle. 

“ Summing up the situation, the case would appear to be 
one of murder, with the purpose of gaining possession of some 
object believed to be in the custody of the deceased. What 
was the nature of that object? It might be the Wilmot dia- 
monds; but if they were actually in his possession, the original 
theory brought to us is upset. To test that theory, Sinclair^’s 
movements should be minutely investigated from the night of 
the robbery to the occasion of his arrest. If, as we under- 
stand, and as appears probable. Remington can have had no per- 
sonal communication with Sinclair, did the latter leave a pack- 
age for Remington at some place agreed upon, or did he send 
him any parcel through the ordinary public channels? Rem- 
ington may have considered a bold course the safest one. 
Travelers do not as a rule suppose that their neighbors may 
have £20,000 worth of valuables in an inner waistcoat pocket; 
and if he had decided to bring the property over himself, his 
murderer must be found before we get again upon the trace of 
the Wilmot diamonds. At the same time, the original theory 
may be the correct one, after all. He may not have had the 
valuables about liim; and the murder, if committed for the 
purpose of obtaining possession of them, may have been com- 


THE EASSEHGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


45 


mitted in vain. The inner pocket of the vest may have been 
found quite empty. 

“ Suspicion evidently points to the two men named in your 
messages — Vine^ alias Grainger or Smith, and Finch, alias 
Walker. They are, of course, in Paris, and for all I know 
may be at the present moment within a stone^s- throw of the 
hotel at which I am writing. What their familiarity with 
Paris hiding-places may be I can not say. In all probability 
they have come here furnished with an address. It is ex- 
tremely fortunate that I should have been able to place Toppin 
so promptly upon their track : and this we owe to your tele- 
grams. Toppin will have seen them safely housed, and then, 
by his relations with the French police, will secure their arrest 
on suspicion. I am only just in time to catch the return 
mail.^'’ 

The writer sealed up his long epistle, procured the necessary 
postage from the waiter, and directed that wondering person- 
age — who now appeared freshly shaven, and with his dingy 
flannel shirt hidden by clean linen that was rigorously white, 
with bluish tones — to keep an eye upon his traveling-rug, etc., 
while he ran across to the late letter-box at the terfninus. He 
consulted the railway clock, dropped the missive into the for- 
eign box with a sigh of satisfaction, and stepped into the tele- 
graph office to wire a message that his “ report was following 
by morning mail. While standing at the desk he also scrib- 
bled a note in these brief terms, and in quite an inferior hand- 
writing : 

Dear Mary, — Tell the boy to watch Clements, of Tudor 

Street. He is to try and And out if C receives letters bearing 

Paris postmark, or foreign telegrams. Should 0 ap]3ear to 

be leaving for Continent, the boy is to wire me above hotel. Give 
him what money he may want. He may see some one from 
the Yard on the same tack, but that is to make no difference. 

C will be on the lookout for the Yard people, and may 

prove too slippery for them. DonT forget the dog^s medicine.'’^ 

An address was already printed on the crumpled envelope in 
which the foregoing note was inclosed. Mrs. Byde was the 
name of the accipient, and she lived in Camberwell. 

The passenger from Scotland Yard, returning across the 
muddy street in the gray light of the winter morning, seemed 
to be able to pick his way among the puddles and to look on 
every side of him simultaneously. His friend the waiter, sur- 
veying hiift from the door-way, as he approached, apparently 
found it difficult to classify the customer whom the early mail 


46 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


had brought to the establishment that day. The phraseo- 
grams he would habitually pour forth before the cockney who 
arrived to him an hungered, faltered and died away upon his 
doubting lips. ‘‘ Chop-and-steaks-and-potate,^^ Oole-rosbif- 
and-pickells,^" Fright-sole-or-gril-kidneys,^' Hamannegs 
—these and other simple viands, richly anointed with marga- 
rine, had always been favored by the aristocracy of Battersea on 
Saturday nights, the Sabbath, and Bank Holiday. The waiter 
had derived therefrom a poor impression of the English noble 
as a critic of the culinary art; and so he commonly informed 
those members of his family sphere who had not hitherto en- 
joyed the benefits of travel. But the gentleman who had come 
that morning, and who resembled externally any other kind of 
burly gentleman from Battersea — a little on in years, perhaps 
— had just at this moment a glacial air which froze upon the 
waiter^ s tongue the coc' i i * usually reserved 



for English travelers 


copper-colored 


horse-shoe scarf-pins. Inspector Byde had not arrayed his 
person with the elegance of a Bond Street fashion-plate, that 
was sui’e. It was clear he had no arrangement with his tailor 
by which hb exhibited and advertised, in return for a dis- 
count, or a drawback, or “ liberal treatment, sir — oh, we know 
when weTe dealing with a gentleman, sir,"*^ the harmonies of 
that artist, or his symphonies — under the reader^’s reverence. 
No; the inspector has the quickest of perceptions of all out- 
ward effects, as his colleagues in the force know well. Who 
like him can adapt mere nothings to the uses. of disguise? Who 
so completely can appear the clownisli peasant, the sportive 
stock-broker, the atrabiliary meetingdiouse Jeremiah? When 
left to himself, however. Inspector Byde takes refuge in his 
oldest clothes, and lets his bushy beard grow. And yet you 
Avould never confound him with Sergeant Bell. The waiter 
swallowed his phraseogram of “ tea — coff — choclate — bottell- 
beer,^^ and called down the pipe privily to the cook to give his 
best care to the forthcoming order. 

The order, indeed, which presently followed that warning 
was conceived in the happiest vein of gastronomical propriety, 
not unblended with zest. Inspector Byde would sometimes 
say at home in Camberwell that when they had sent him 
abroad, on business of the department, he might have failed to 
bring them back the criminal, but he never failed to bring a 
new dish to the Camberwell kitchen. lie used to add that he 
was a better cook than detective; but this was not the opinion 
of Mrs. Byde, who could not relish, do what sheVould, the 
tvi'pGs d Id TiiodG do Cd 67 i which he occasionally essayed, and 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


47 


who did not believe that the mixture of tomatoes, butter, eggs, 
parsley, and garlic, with pepper and salt, so often prepared in 
a frying-pan by the inspector, after that brief trip of his to 
Marseilles, could possibly be otherwise than baneful to a 
Protestant digestion. And the valued Caledonian down-stairs, 
who could vie with any one in roast meats and boiled, objected 
strongly to the master^s presence in the kitchen. Inspector 
Byde gave his order hke a cook and a gentleman; and his 
‘‘ Prenche he spake full fayre and fetisly. He had not at- 
tended evening classes at the local institute for nothing; and 
he would have rather thought that their local institute, at the 
corner of the terrace, ranked as high as any “ scole of Strat- 
ford-atte-Bowe.^^ Whenever he landed upon the soil of 
France, therefore, he conversed with perfect readiness in the 
three dialects, agreeably intermingled, which he had managed 
to acquire : the first from the bankrupt Bordeaux hosier, who, 
established in a London villa, instructed the local youth of 
both sexes and adults; the second, from the estimable S^viss 
pastor with whom he had once stayed for the benefit of liis 
health; and the other from the Marseilles warehouseman to 
whom he had been referred for certain information of depart- 
mental interest. He found that he always secured attention 
when he spoke to the natives in their own tongue. 

As he waited for his breakfast, Mr. Byde looked round for a 
newspaper. Finding none to his taste, he plunged his hand 
into a capacious coat pocket and produced a few articles which 
he examined, one by one, and then ranged on the table. There 
were two pipe-cases; a small book, like an education-primer; 
several envelopes and sheets of note-paper, between a pair of 
card-board covers; and a clumsy leathern case for spectacles. 
The spectacles were blue and large — so large and so densely 
blue that each lens might have been mistaken for a saucer in 
a tea-service of old china. Mr. Byde breathed on the glasses 
and refolded them, and extracted a piece of lead-pencil from 
another pocket. 

The waiter must have journeyed to and fro more often by a 
great deal than his service could have required. Every time 
he passed the table over which the strange* gentleman was 
bending he craned a little to one side, as if he sought to catch 
a glimpse of that gentleman '’s occupation. Perhaps he fancied 
that the new arrival might be caricaturing the manager of the 
establishment, who was now displaying his portly person at the 
counter, or that his own — the wai term’s — oval countenance, 
shaded by short and shining curls, had arousecUthe admiration 
of the intelligent stranger, who might be transferring the pict- 


48 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


lire skillfully to i^aper. Making ready at length to lay the 
snow-white table-cloth, he saw that both his impressions were 
erroneous. The stranger was tracing figures which he could 
not for the life of him identify with any objects in that restau- 
rant. He drew the same figures repeatedly on different scales, 
and two or three of them h^ been traced upon the marble slab 
of the table itself. It looked like sorcery, especially when the 
designer of the lines and circles printed letters of the alphabet 
here and there, and muttered to himself; but the gentleman 
was perhaps an architect? 

Asa matter of fact it was the problem of an equilateral tri- 
angle, to be described on a given finite straight line, that Mr. 
Inspector Byde had been industriously solving upon the mar- 
ble slab of the cafe table. From that exercise he had pro- 
ceeded to a solution of the problem: To draw, from a given 
point, a straight line equal to a given straight line. 

“ Let muttered Mr. Byde, as he printed letters of the 
alphabet here and there, be the given point, and BC the 
given straight line: it is required to draw from the point A a 
straight line equal to BC. From the point A td B draw the 
straight line AB. Postulate 1 says that a straight line may be 
drawn from any one point to any other point; so that I at once 
go on to describe upon it the equilateral triangle DAB, pro- 
ducing the straight lines DA, DB, to E and F; in accordance 
with postulate 2, which states that a terminated straight line 
may be produced to any length in a straight line. From the 
center B, at the distance BO, I describe the circle CGH, meet- 
ing DF at G, inasmuch as postulate 3 declares that a circle 
may be described from any center, at any distance from that 
center. I next, from the center D, at the distance DG, de- 
scribe the circle GKL, meeting DE at L. Now it follows from 
the definition that BO is equal to BG. And as things which 
are equal to the same thing are equal to one another, AL is 
equal to BO; wherefore, from the given point A a straight line 
AL has been drawn, equal to the given straight line BO.^^ 

Inspector Byde surveyed his handiwork with approbation, 
and added, most conscientiously, Q. E. F."^ He also demon- 
strated how, from the greater of two given straight lines, a 
part may be cut off equal to the less; which being accom- 
plished, he again pronounced a somewhat unctuous “ Q. E. F.^"' 
He had not soared to lofty mathematical ^eminences, as the 
reader will no doubt have observed. Indeed, he had never 
been able to push his researches into the eternal truths of 
Euchd^s elements further than proposition 12, the scholastic 
advantages which he had almost religiously procured for Mas- 


THE PASSEHGEE FROH SCOTLAND YARD. 


49 


Edgar Byde, the sole scion of his house, and possibly a fut- 
ure ornament to the Yard, having been as a rule beyond his 
own reach, notwithstanding the popular institute at the corner 
of the terrace. But the inspector could do eight out of those 
twelve, he flattered himself, as lucidly as any one, and five of 
them he knew by heart. Was this bad, when you were a busy 
man, and self -instructed? He could not bring himself to seek 
assistance from his erudite son; but he borrowed Master Byde^’s 
old school-books, and retained them — having paid for them 
himself — and frequently consulted those portable volumes in 
secret. The dog^s-ears through the education primer at his 
left hand indicated the giddy pinnacle to which his son had 
climbed in regions of pure geometry; and of those dog^s-ears, 
together with marginal illustrations of the horse, the locomo- 
tive engine, the steamship, and the most prominent features of 
the least amiable of the teachers at his song’s school, Mr. In- 
spector Byde was very proud. 

It was when there was nothing of particular urgency to 
occupy his mind that the inspector resorted to his rudimentary 
diagrams. Some people will sketch impromptu forms when 
they are fancy free, will tear pieces of paper into the minutest 
fragments, gnaw at their finger-nails, whistle for the gratifica- 
tion of their neighbors, or pick .their teeth with the specific 
implement to which a lengthened usage may have attached 
them. Inspector Byde filled up odd quarters of an hour by 
proving a few familiar theorems and solving a cherished prob- 
lem or two which Master Byde would assuredly have disdained. 
It must have been all plain sailing, for the moment, in the 
Wilmot affair. The passenger from Scotland Yard went on 
to prove that the angles at the base of an isosceles triangle are 
equal to one another, and that, if the equal sides be produced, 
the angles on the other side of the base shall be equal to one 
another, also : the corollary resulting from which demonstra- 
tion being that every equilateral triangle is hkewise equiangular. 

The waiter bustled in from the street, evidently burdened 
with a piece of excitmg intelligence. Did monsieur know? 
There had been a dreadful deed in the train by which monsieur 
had traveled — a murder. . He had just learned all about it 
from his colleague at the restaurant next door but three. 
Frightful, was it not? 

‘‘ What, you have heard of it already, at this end of the 
street?'^ said the inspector. “ Bravo J things are smartly done 
in Paris, arenT they?^'’ 

Yes~but they canT make out some writing on the slip of 


50 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

paper; and I am to go to the commissary office to see if I can 
read it. 

“ A slip of paper 

“ With writing on it^ monsieur — writing in English — that 
looks like an address 


CHAPTEE VI 

It was to a private hotel in a by-street lying between the 
Faubourg St. Honore and the Avenue des Champs Elysees that 
Mr. Byers conducted his two companions on the morning of 
their arrival in Paris. As he explained to them, the quarter 
was sufficiently populous and sufficiently Britannic for their 
introduction into any portion of it to pass unnoticed. A good 
maftiy of the stable-boys, grooms and coachmen, in fact, who 
were to be encountered in that quarter came from the various 
counties of the British Isles, and Mr. Bartholomew Finch 
might easily have been mistaken for some among that class. 
He would not readily have been taken for a personage with 
many grooms and coachmen in his service; nor could his pres- 
ence, as a guest, in marble halls or gilded drawing-rooms have 
failed to strike the observant menials waiting upon the com- 
pany as a circumstance of the most suspicious order, not to say 
— if a genuine quotation from the servant’s hall may be per- 
mitted — a promiscuous abnormal it5^ 

The physiognomy of Sir John, however, lent itself at once to 
any sort of society, high or low. We who are acquainted with 
his antecedents can state that his origin was of the most vile, 
that the associations of his early years were brutalizing and 
sinister, and that all his life he had profited by crime, although 
he was never known, by men in Soho who are cognizant of 
everytliing, to have personally engaged in its actual perpetra- 
tion. The scandal in high life which had ended so disastrously 
for a Spanish hidalgo who had settled in Mayfair, had com- 
mended the Montmorency Vane who had the intrigue with the 
hidalgo ^s wife to the most favorable notice of the enterprising 
firm of Clements & Co. That distinguished Spaniard had 
espoused an American beauty — indeed, the belle of Bos- 
ton; and really a very handsome and widely ill-educated young 
lady^ — who had thrown over an ingenuous townsman (the 
Presbyterian auctioneer, who afterward committed suicide) for 
the sake of a Castilian invalid and title. When she took her 
walks in Hyde Park, Montmorency Vane would follow at a 
distance; sometimes a copy of verses, written upon vellum 
stamped with a coat-of-arms, would reach her by the post. 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


51 


From her window she had occasionally detected him watching 
her residence with the jealousy of true love. He would shroud 
himself in a dark mantel, and pose in the attitude of the mys- 
terious stranger. He told her subsequently that he had royal 
blood in liis veins. Montmorency Vane turned out to be Vine, 
alias Grainger. He was not a party to the divorce suit, but in 
the impounded correspondence there were notes which bore his 
name and seal. It proved a great shock to the “ belle of 
Boston who had jilted the Presbyterian auctioneer — a young 
man of great promise and fine prospects, and the support of 
his mother and sisters — to find that her own maid had formed 
the veritable attraction. Through her own maid the mysteri- 
ous stranger knew of all her movements; and it was a humilia- 
tion from which she never recovered to learn that ‘‘ her purse, 
not her person — as her counsel declaimed afterward, tauto- 
phonically but with noble indignation — ^had been the object of 
his persistent siege. But it would be of no use denying it: 
about Vine, alias Grainger, or “ Sir John,^'’ there was a some- 
thing which imposed upon the wisest among the fair. Wher- 
ever he went, the sex were gracious with him; and he hardly 
went anywhere without turning to pecuniary account this gra- 
cious disposition of the sex. He would borrow the savings of 
a lady^s-maid, or steal them from her; or he would live in a 
magnificent manner for a week or two upon an instalment of 
hush-money extorted from her mistress. 

In London, people usually found it so difficult to place 
Vine, alias Grainger, that they often transferred their atten- 
tion to his immediate neighbors as a means of making up their 
minds with reference to himself. You might have taken him, 
in London, for a music-hall vocalist, or a billiacd-marker; for 
a betting-man, or a professional philanthropist; a bill dis- 
counter, or a noble viscount who, with no mcfney in his pocket, 
no balance at the bank, and not even a few blank checks to 
show in a deceptive check-book, goes behind the scenes of 
theaters und invites the chorus-girls or ballet-dancers to sup- 
per. Vine, alias Grainger, fitted into Parisian life quite nat- 
urally. In Paris he would at once become an excellent type 
of the Continental loafer who talks international pohtics with 
the bias of John Bull, and never learns the language of the 
country. Only card-sharpers would have played ecarte with 
him on a first acquaintance. And yet there are men of the 
same external t^rpe in continental cities upon whom mistrust 
would constitute a keen injustice: perfectly honest gentlemen 
— the cousins or brothers-in-law of wealthy British residents — 
who subsist upon the charity of their relatives and are not to 


62 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


be surprised in any species of indecorous act. As for Sir 
John, he might have had no polish, but he used an impenetra- 
ble veneer. He could put on a dazzling show of gentility, and 
had always found it answer; gentility being, upon the whole, 
more advantageous to the individual than refinement. At any 
rate, the ladies were always prepossessed in his favor — espe- 
cially those who prided themselves upon their gifts of penetra- 
tion. 

When Grandpa arrived at the Hotel Clifton with his charges, 
the damsel who presided over the small counting-house had 
only just descended. The raw air made its way in with the 
three visitors, and the damsel gazed upon them at first not too 
pleasantly. 

Mr. Byers reminded the young person that he had engaged 
an apartment on the first-floor for a couple of friends who hml 
just come up from Italy. It was a double-bedded room, and 
his two friends, who had traveled for some days imbrokenly, 
would wish for absolute quiet. Until they got over their ex- 
cessive fatigue, and felt a little better in health — the doctors 
had forbidden them to travel northward, but the demands of 
business were imperious — they would prefer to take their meals 
privately, in their apartment. Breakfast might be served at 
the ordinary hour, but in the meantime mademoiselle would 
send them up hot grogs. 

Mademoiselle seemed to have intended to receive the strangers 
haughtily — these foreign travelers presumed upon their wealth. 
She thawed, however, beneath the casual glance of Sir John, 
and informed liim, responding to Mr. Byqrs, that everything 
should be done that could possibly be done to secure them 
comfort and franquillity. 

The.^first proceeding of Mr. Finch, on their installing them- 
selves in the apartment on the first-floor, was to look out of the 
window and estimate the distance of the drop. Mr. Byers ex- 
amined the recesses and tested the walls. Satisfied that they 
were secure from any risk of being overheard, Mr. Byers 
dragged a chair up to the mantel-piece, and warmed liimself 
at the log fire. 

“ How, John,^^ said he, “ there must be no reticences in this 
affair, you know. Let us have the remainder of the story, just 
as it happened—nothing more and nothing less. AYhatever it 
is, out with it. If youHe gone further in this than we like, 
we can back out, canT me, and say no more about it? Weh-e 
men^of business: you^re safe with me, and I^m safe with you. 
You \e taken me up to the last stoppage but one. At Amiens 


THE PASSENGER FROH SCOTLAND YARD. 53 

you had made up your mind to get the property between Creil 
and Paris? Is that it?’^ 

That^s it. Grandpa/^ confirmed Mr. Pinch. 

“ AV'ell/^ began Vine, alias Grainger, slowly, ‘‘ I dare say 
youfil want to wash your bauds of this business, Byers, when 
youVe heard how it stands. As for Bat, if I am implicated, 
he^s implicated too. Appearances might be against us at a 
pinch, but, after all, there^'s nothing they could prove. If you 
left us, Byers — if you said you would have nothing more to do 
with it- — I shouldn’t be surprised: but I know we should be safe 
with you.” 

“ My character ought to be pretty well known by this time, 
I should hope,” returned Mr. Byers, distantly. ‘‘ I’ve done 
business with as many hard-working thieves as anybody, and I 
should like to know who could have sent men to penal servi- 
tude if I couldn’t— and some, of them richly deserved it for 
their ingratitude; but I bear no malice, and I remembered 
their wives and families. Safe with me ! What do you say. 
Bat?” 

I say that I want clever Mr. Sir John to tell me without 

any more palaver what the I’m ‘ implicated ’ in, that’s 

what 1 say,” growled Bartholomew. 

‘‘ Perhaps you’ll blame for what has happened?” resumed 
the other. “ It was no fault of mine. How could I know? 
You’re well off that I changed my mind at the last moment; 
if I had kept to the original arrangement, yo%i might have been 
in this condition, too!” He took out biis handkerchief, and 
contemplated the stains of blood for an instant, without any 
signs of emotion. “ My plan was for Bat, here, to follow me 
along the step into the compartment where Remington had 
gone. It was very easy; the night was pitch dark; there were 
only a few people in the train; Remington had a second-class 
ticket, and could not be more than three or four compartments 
along; he had been endeavoring to get a compartment to him- 
self ever since we left Calais, and could hardly keep his eyes 
open; and by trying ifc after Creil, the last stoppage, we ran a 
good chance of finding him half asleep. I may want to cut 
things short sometimes, but no one can accuse me of ever mix- 
ing myself up with violence. I did not desire any violence; I 
detest violence. If the boys would take a leaf out of my book, 
they wouldn’t be sent to ‘ penal ’ quite so often, I can tell 
you, or be settled by the black cap, leaving their families to 
go upon the parish rates.” 

“ When the boys ain’t such favorites with the ladies, they 
have to do the best they can,” commented Mr. Pinch, rather 


54 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

rudely, as his companion paused— me, for instance. !N“ot 
that I 'm a partisan of violence — oh, dear no, not me ! Though 
I like to cut things short, as much as other people, and what 

I want to know at the present moment is, what the I’m 

‘ implicated ’in!” 

‘‘^Supposing we had found him on the lookout, what could 
we have dared to do? He had the property about him, and 
would have immediately known that we knew it. If he had 
shown fight, without making any noise, we were too strong for 
him; if he had caDed for help, or signaled to stop the train, 
he was at our mercy, because* he had the property on his per- 
son, and we could have denounced him. What I meant to do 
was just to tell him quietly what we had come for, to recom- 
mend him to make no fuss, and to get it from him peaceably. 
We might have handed him something over for the trouble he 
had been put to, and had a drink with him when we^ arrived in 
Paris. That was my combination. It was straightforward, 
wasn’t it — a straightforward plan, and pretty good?” 

The A B 0 of the game — that’s all!” replied Mr. Byers. 

“ The A B 0 of the game, no doubt,” said the other, coolly; 
“ if two things had not happened — if, to begin with, Mr. Bat, 
here, had not kept me arguing, after we left Oreil, that it was 
better to wait until we reached Paris, and then watch our man 
and get the diamonds from him ‘ comfortably ’ — ' comforta- 
bly!’ I told him to stay where he was, but to keep a lookout 
on the near side of the train, up as well as down.” 

“ A lookout! You couldn’t see your hand before you; and 
as for hearing anybody, you couldn’t have heard it thunder, 
with the row the train was making. I admit I wanted to v/ait 
until we got to Parry, but as you had made your mind up to 
bring it off in the train, why couldn’t I have come with you? 
No; you would have your own way — you said that that would 
spoil it. ” 

“ Because, on second thoughts, if I could have caught him 
with his eyes closed, or asleep, it would have been quicker for 
one to do it than two; and then, with a hit of cloth across my 
face, I^ could have got away without his guessing who had 
pinned 'him down so artfully and robbed him. And if he had 
struggled, he would have been hurt. The property coidd have 
been passed on to Bat, and I could have finished the joiumey 
is^ one of the empty compartments, just in case of accident. 
Well, wasn’t that pretty good?” 

‘‘ I want to know what I’m implicated in,” said Mr. Finch, 
gloomily. 

Murder,” replied his colleague, deliberately. ‘‘And as 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 55 

we were followed from the station on spec., and before it could 
have l^en discovered, Byers would be in it, too, if he could be 
identified as one of the three. When I got on to the foot- 
board, on the off-side of the train, I found it was easier^work 
than I had thought. There was no danger of the guard com- 
ing along again to look at the tickets, and even in broad day- 
light the passengers could not have seen me unless they had 
had their . heads out of the window. As it was, the windows 
were all closed, and where there were passengers, some of the 
blinds were drawn. The train was going very fast, and swung 
now and then, but I found it easy enough to creep along. 
Everything was there ready to your hand. I thought I had 
gone past the compartment, owing to the drawn curtains, but 
presently I got to our man. There was an empty compart- 
ment on each side of his, and nothing could have seemed bet- 
ter. The lamp had burned very low, but I could see that he 
was lying along the seat nearest the engine, with something 
under his head for a pillow, and his feet almost touching the 
door I meant to open. I did not think he could be asleep, 
with the knowledge that he had this property about him; but 
it looked as if he had come to the conclusion that all was safe, 
as we were getting near Paris,** and that he was dozing. I had 
the door open in a second, and in another second I had him by 
the throat. He did not resist, and I shook him to see whether 
he would speak. He did not speak; but as 1 shook him I felt 
something at the side of his throat, moist and sticky. It was 
blood. I turned his head gently toward the light, and there 
was a small wound at the left temple. I tried the pulse. Our 
man was dead."’"’ 

And that is how you got those stains on your handker- 
chief and your hands?'’'’ said Mr. Byers, breaking the silence 
which ensued upon this announcement. 

“That is how. 

“ Then there ought to be marks on the door, as you closed 
it after you, on going back; and a mark or two, perhaps, on 
the handles as you went along to your own compartment 
again 

“ It had not quite left off raining, as I crept back, and the 
rain must have washed away any traces of that sort. I entered 
almost the first empty compartment I came to, and that is the 
reason why Bat and I did not meet again before giving up our 
tickets at the terminus/'’ 

“ When did you get those nasty stains on your handker- 
chief?^^ 

“ When I wiped my wrist, afterward, in the compartment. 


5G THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

alone. Whoever had done it conld not have been there very 
long before mej and you can take your affidavit that I didn t 
stay there very long, either. It was quite sufficient for me to 
see that sealskin vest unbuttoned, and the pocket in the lining 
turned inside out.^^ 

Neither Mr. Byers nor Finch, alias Walker, made any re- 
sponse. 

“ A child might have floored me when I found out what 
had happened,'’" resumed the narrator. ‘‘ I could scarcely be- 
lieve it. I was so upset that I nearly let go my hold as I 
went back along the foot-board. The disappointment was 
enough to make you jump under the wheels. "" 

. Mr. Byers gazed into the log fire. Finch, alias Walker, 
tilted his chair back and studied the arabesques around the 
ceiling. 

“ Such a thing never happened to me before,"" continued 
Sir John; ‘‘ and I wish I could have come across the party who 
forestalled us!"" 

Why?"" said Mr. Byers. 

“ Why?"" 

Yes — why? He wouldn"t have been likely to be dozing, 
you know. And you had no Weapons — that is, you had no 
fire-arms?"" 

Sir John looked at his questioner without replying at once. 
He then transferred his scrutiny to Mr. Finch. 

‘‘ What does this amount to?"" he demanded, presently, ris- 
ing to his feet. ‘‘ Does this mean that you doubt my word? 
Which of you doubts my word — come?"" Mr. B3^ers whistled 
softly to himself, and stirred one of the blazing logs with his 
foot. His companion followed with a fascinated air an 
arabesque in faded blue. “ Bat knows what I had besides the 
sword-stick which I left in his care. If I had any fire-arms, 
where are they now? And why should I want to put the 
double on you? There would have been more than enough 
for all of us, and for three times our number. The stones 
were undervalued, Clements says. Why should I want to put 
the double on? Besides, you can satisfy yourself. Search 
me!"" 

‘‘John, I am surprised at you,"" remonstrated Mr. Borers. 
“Your attitude just now. was unbecoming in the extreme. 
Menaces! And with regard to searching, we don"t search 
one another — not exactly! If we did not trust to one another, 
business could not possibly go on. What do you say, Bar- 
tholomew?"" 

“ Pity he didn"t jump under those wheels — when he got 


THE PASSENGER PKOH SCOTLAND YARD. 


57 


those marks about him — that^s what I say,’^ responded Mr. 
Fmch. ‘‘ He basnet yet found out that he smeared his own 
undercoat with the stains from his hand — and look at it! 
Search him? He^ll have to search himself if he wants to go 
out into the public streets with me.” 

“ Wei], now, of course he will take the necessary precau- 
tions; that is another question. Make up your mind to this: 
you will both be suspected, primd facie, by the persons — 
friend Toppin, liis colleague, and the rest — who know of your 
presence in the train; and that, of course, involves myseK. 
Unfortunate — most unfortunate! What we have to do now is 
to find the property, because then we find the gentleman who 
did this business, or we get upon his track. If we succeed in 
taking over the property, we can soon get the gentleman in- 
dicated to Scotland Yard. Search you, John! Oh, dear, no! 
The gentleman I should like to search, from what you tell me 
of the proceedings on the way, is either — Grandpa paused in 
delivering judgment — “ Byde himself — ” 

‘‘Byde!'’^ exclaimed Mr. Finch, this time really astonished. 
“ I wish I could think it was Byde,^-’ muttered Sir John. 

‘‘ Or, the talkative man, whak’s-his-name, in the temper- 
ance cause; and in my opinion that is the party we shall have 
to look for.^^ 

‘‘ YouVe hit it. Grandpa, said Mr. Finch. 

‘‘My own idea, Byers — the temperance manl^^ said Sir 
John, emphatically. “ To find the property, we must find 
that gentleman; though, if it were Byde — 

“ Oh, he^’s quite deep enough to have thought about it,^^ 
observed Mr. Byers, “ but let us do him justice. There ^s no 
man at the Yard who^s cleverer than Byde, but there^s no man 
who^’s more honest. I did know one of them, a great linguist, 
Greek by descent — he^s now away, doing fifteen years — who 
would not have hesitated a very long time about putting a 
knife into Kemington — not a bullet : too clumsy — getting the 
valuables, and having you both arrested before you were fifty 
yards outside the station. It is greatly to be regretted that 
there has been any violence in this alfair; but the person who 
was there before you, John, was not a regular hand; No 
regular hand would use a fire-arm, would he?^' 

“ Of course not. That^s exactly what I said to myself, ex- 
claimed Sir John. 

“ Vll give a prize to any lady or gentleman who will bring 
the address of our dear friend from England to Mr. Bar- 
tholomew Finch, Esq., in the course of the afternoon,^' re- 
marked Mi\ Finch. 


58 THE PASSEKTtER fhoh SOOTLAKH YAHI). 

Vine, alias Grainger, tried to recall the title of the organiza- 
tion upon whose beneficent influence Ih’other Neel had been 
expatiating. He failed, however, despite all his attempts. 
Mr. Byers, who had immediately brightened up, declared that 
it did not matter in the smallest degree. He would procure a 
list of the associations of that character which existed in Paris; 
they were not numerous, and John might be able to recognize 
the name if he saw it. Only they must lose no time. 

“ IPs lucky I"m with you in this, my boys,^^ concluded Mr. 
Byers, rising from his chair, and looking for his hat. With- 
out me, what a nice mess you would be in! As it is, I under- 
take to unearth your temperance friend, and to put you in the 
way of getting quits with him. That part of the work will be 
for you to do, and if you do it effectually he will only get what 
he deserves for his dishonesty.^-’ 

‘‘ Those temperance preachers!'’^ reflected Mr. Finch, aloud. 
“ I wouldnT like to go into a crowd of them with my watch 
and chain on. I wouldn^t even toss with them for drinks. 
Give me the man that likes his two-penn^’orth of gin — that^s 
the chap I can trust He sipped noisily at his grog. 

‘‘ Leave the arrangements to me,-’^ continued Mr. Byers — 
“ and don’t stir out-of-doors. I may come back at any time 
— perhaps not till this evening, perhaps not till to-morrow. 
Don’t be alarmed if my absence should be prolonged. I must 
see how the land lies, and bring you back something definite. 
Ah, what clever boys we are from London, are we not? What 
should we do — whatever should we go — without poor old 
Grandpa, who has practically retired from business?” After 
which playful thrust, and before departing, Mr. Byers in> 
structed his juniors in the methods of filling up fallaciously the 
j)olice sheets of the Paris hotels. 

Sir John and Mr. Finch found that the hours hung heavily 
on their hands throughout the day. They had their meals 
served in their apartment, and, as invalids, did their best to 
restrain their appetites. AVhen they were not eating, or tak- 
ing a nap, they played at cards, although each knew that the 
other habitually cheated, and each preferred to play with his 
own pack, reproaching the other at the same time for his want 
of confidence. 

A curious incident occurred later. Overcome by their 
fatigue, they dropped off to sleep almost as soon as they had 
disrobed themselves and retired to their respective couches for 
the night. Their regular breathing presently became louder, 
and continued both loud and rhythmical: the profound sleep 
of the good man and the weary was indubitably theirs. But 


THE PASSEHGEE FKO]^f SCOTLAND YARD. 59 

Finch, alias AYalker, seemed to be subject to somnambulism. 
Still breathing in the vigorous cadence to which we have al- 
luded, he gradually slid out of the high mahogany bedstead he 
was occupying, and went through a series of movements which 
might have appeared surreptitious if detected by Sir Jolm. 
No light was burning in the room, but the rays of a street 
lamp just caught their window and faintly illuminated the in- 
terior. Mr. Finch had the air of stealthily proceeding toward 
his companion's garments. Yes, it was certainly toward this 
point that he had directed his course, for he was now engaged 
in the examination of the pockets, and, that process over, he 
very carefully inspected the lining of the small black leather 
bag. Had he mistaken these objects for his own? The spec- 
tator who might have adopted this conclusion would have most 
probably revised his judgment when he perceived the somnam- 
bulist turn in the direction of Sir John. Arrived at the lat- 
ter^’s bedside, he stood there apparently surveying his relaxed 
features and listening to the measure of his notes. Such a re- 
markable fixity of attention, such obedience to a paramount 
idea, will not astonish any persons learned in the phenomena 
of somnambulism. 

Finch, alias Walker, extended his left hand, and began 
gently — oh, most gently — to insinuate it imder the pillow of 
his sleeping partner. The digital dexterity of Mr. Finch must 
have been from his earliest years cultivated to the acme of per- 
fection. An ivory paper-knife inserted between the bolster 
and the mattress could hardly have caused a slighter derange- 
ment than the advance of that supple palm; it was impossible 
that the motion should wake the sleeper. 

“When you’ve done!” suddenly remarked Vine, alias 
Grainger, in a tone of expostulation. 

“ Ah, that’s exactly what I thought,” rephed the somnam- 
bulist, imperturbably. “ I would have laid a thousand on it. 
A nice man to come away with, tliis is! Shams sleep the very 
first night — puts the double on with a pal. All right!” 

“No offense, I ho^e?” inquired Sir John, ironically. 

“ All right— all right!” 

“ I was dreaming that I had found the man we want,” con- 
tinued Sir John, in the same tone. 

“ And I was dreaming that I had found the property!” 

“ You had better dream that over again, and take a note of 
the address,” retorted Sir John. 


60 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


CHAPTEE VII. 

Inspector Byde had finished his breakfast, and he had 
also finished questioning the waiter on the presumable in- 
gredients of a sauce which helped the thinking faculty, he 
said, and which he would have been pleased to see acclimatized 
to Camberwell. He was now reclining with a certain majesty 
upon the red velveteen cushions of the cafe attached to the 
Terminus Hotel. From the half dozen articles he had brought 
out of his pocket previously, and arrayed upon the table, he 
selected the leathern cases that contained respectively a large 
pipe and a little one. The indecision with which he regarded 
their competing charms might have seemed trivial in a person 
of his years — and quite unworthy of a man so justly respected 
in so serious a vocation — to any one unacquainted with his 
ways. The inspector had two pipes, because he had two 
moods. His present mood, however, was after all not the 
anxious one; it was the mood of roseate calm, sanguine tran- 
quillity. He therefore took up the smaller calumet; and, after 
loading its wooden bowl with tobacco of a golden hue, he smiled 
long and placidly at the gay advertisement exposed upon the 
wall in front of him, without becoming in the least aware of 
its poematic and pictorial purpose. 

Thus absorbed, he undoubtedlyjdid not notice a manly form 
which appeared before the entrance to the cafe from the street, 
which crossed the threshold dubiously, and which at length ad- 
vanced straight toward him. The manly form halted at the 
inspector’s table and sunk into a seat. It was Toppiii. 

* Take a nip,” said Byde, laconically, after a sharp glance. 

He pushed the tray, with the diminutive decanter and glass, 
across the table to his colleague. 

“ They’ve got away,” annomiced Toppin, looking veiy crest- 
fallen. 

“ How was that?” 

Toppin explained that about the movements of the parties 
he had been commissioned to follow there had been nothing 
suspicious until they left the Halles. They had driven to the 
Central Markets and had come away agaiu, and it was only 
when they were returning from that point that he discovered 
grounds for suspicion in their behavior. The cab was evident- 
ly pursuing a circuitous route, inasmuch as the coachman 
turned back from the Halles and partly retraced his steps. 
Pulling up at an ordinary district post-office, which was not 


THE PASSEHGEE FROM SCOTLAKD YARD. 


61 


yet open for tlie day, the cabman had descended from his place 
to drop a missive of some sort into the box. No one but the 
driver had descended; of that he felt quite positive. The cab 
had then gone off to a different locality altogether. He was 
careful to keep the vehicle in view, and when it stopped once 
more at a tavern, he was certain that, in this instance also, 
the driver was the only individual who alighted. After a slight 
delay the journey was resumed at a quick pace; and what was 
his astonishment when eventually the vehicle pulled up at a 
cab-stand, and took a station at the extremity of the rank as 
though no party or parties were inside it! Hardly knowing 
whether to show himself or not, he hesitated for some time to 
approach the vehicle. When fie did go up to it there was, sure 
enough, but a single occupant — the coachman, who had made 
himself comfortable inside with the object of enjoying a nap. 
This man was half asleep and half intoxicated. All he could 
elicit from him with regard to his last “ fare was that they 
were people who did not know their own mhid, and that they 
had dfischarged him at the Halles. 

‘‘I donT believe this,^^ wound up Mr. Toppin, “ but Tve 
taken his number. If they threw me off at the Halles, it must 
have been done as quick as lightning.''^ 

“ And to have been done as quick as lightning, it must have 
been done because they saw you following them,^'’ answered 
his colleague. I should recommend you to go and find them 
again. It’s very likely theyTl be wanted.” 

Inspector Byde then briefly informed Detective Toppin of 
the new aspect which the case of the Wilmot diamonds had 
assumed. The discovery of the murder had been made soon 
after Toppin’ s departure on his errand of watching the two 
suspicious characters to whom their attention had been called 
by the telegrams from Scotland Yard. It was a great pity the 
men had eluded him. 

“ I did not think it could be so urgent,” pleaded Toppin. 

‘‘ AYell, now, what would be the procedure here in a matter 
of this kind? What will be done with the body?” 

‘‘ That depends a good deal on the police commissary at- 
tached to the terminus. It would be left to his discretion 
whether the body should be removed at once to the morgue, or 
be retained during the day at the station, for the purposes of the 
inquiry. A commissary at one place might decide one way whilst 
another commissary might decide the other way. It might 
depend on the circumstances of the case; but it might also 
depend,” added Toppin, recovering his assurance as he gave 
his colleague these particulars, “ upon the intelligence of 


62 THE PASSEHGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

the commissary or on his ambition. If he wants to bring him- 
self before public notice he might keep the body where it is as 
long as possible in order to have the control of the investiga- 
tion. If he wants to avoid trouble or extra work he would 
send it on to the morgue at once, having made his notes and 
taken down all the necessary evidence on the spot as soon as 
possible. The matter is left a good deal to his discretion, but 
there are other functionaries to be borne in mind, too. There 
is i\\Q jug e (V instmction ^ or magistrate, charged with the pre- 
liminary investigation of a crime; and I believe the Procureur 
de la Republique would come in at this early stage. It is diffi- 
cult to say where the jurisdictions of these officials begin and 
end; they donT always appear to know themselves. And even 
if their functions are well defined and don't confiict, I have 
known of jealousies among these officials which have hamj^ered 
criminal investigations from the outset." 

“But for the identification of Remington — how will they 
manage, supposing that nothing to identify him should be 
found upon the body?" 

“ Why, you can identify him yourself!" 

“ Yes; and that's what I particularly mean to abstain from 
doing. And you will greatly assist me, Mr. Toppin, by for- 
getting absolutely, so far as the Trench authorities are con- 
cerned, all that I have told you as to Remington and the Wil- 
mot affair. You do not know the name or business of the 
deceased; you learned his casQ from the ordinary channels, re- 
member — the newspapers this afternoon, if you like; and you 
place yourself at the disposal of the French police to take 
measures for ascertaining the identity. Now, what I want to 
know is will this corpse be publicly exposed?" 

“ Yes; that is why it will be removed to the morgue — for 
the purposes of identification." 

“ Very well. It goes to the morgue, where any one can 
enter and see it. Now, do you think the body will be taken 
to the morgue, for public exposure, by tliis afternoon?" 

“ This afternoon? Yes; certainly. It may be on its way 
there now. If you desired to examine the scene of the occur- 
rence, before the corpse was moved, I could have arranged 
that for you with the commissary of the station. But I am 
afraid you would be too late now; and then you don't wish me 
to appear in the case just yet. " 

Did Toppin suspect his colleague of a wish to keep him in 
the background? M as all the credit in this case, which prom- 
ised to turn out a first-rate affair, to be monopolized by a man 
already covered with distinction like Byde? Toppui seemed 


THE PASSEKGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


63 


to think it hard that this could be possible. What could In- 
spector Byde, with all his foresight, perseverance, and ability, 
accomplish in a place like Paris, if he had not at his elbow 
Toppings knowledge of the Parisians and their city, and Top- 
pings intelligence! 

‘‘ I took all the notes I want, I think — as to the appearances 
of the scene of the occurrence — before the commissary was out 
of bed. I want to know about what time the body would be 
exhibited for identification. Tha,t, however, we can soon cal- 
culate on learning when the transfer to the morgue has taken 
place, if it should have already taken place. Anybody about 
here would enlighten us as to whether the commissary has kept 
the body in the station or sent it on. The waiter will be in 
presently with a piece of information for me, and he will 
know. 

Toppin evidently wondered what could be the nature of this 
piece of information, but he did not ask. He was under the 
orders of his colleague, and the latter had apparently got to 
work on some tack or traces of his own. 

“ Are we looking for the murderer ventured Toppin, im- 
pulsively, ‘‘ or these valuables — you and I, I mean?^^ He red- 
dened, as if he felt he had said something foolish. ‘‘ Because, 
he added, nettled at the expression of patient endurance with 
which the inspector received this query, ‘‘the French police 
are very susceptible of iuterference. We may be quite in order 
on the subject of the diamond robbery; but the murder is their 
affair, not ours.^^ 

“ If we find the diamonds for ourselves, we may find the 
murderer for them ; if they find the murderer for themselves, 
th^ may find the diamonds for usl^^ 

Tlie waiter returned at this instant with no doubt the piece 
of information of which mention had been made. 

“ The slip of paper was not discovered by the commissary, 
monsieur,^'* he said, addressing Inspector Byde. “It was 
picked up by one of the employes of the railway before the 
commissary arrived, but was handed to him when he came to 
draw up his report. The employe found it near the door fur- 
thest away from the body of this unfortunate gentleman. Ah, 
messieurs, what a terrible event! What could have been the 
motive of such a dreadful crime? DonT you think it may 
have been a case of suicide? The commissary believes that the 
unfortunate gentleman has fallen a victim to a secret society, 
because none of the valuables about him were disturbed. Ho 
you believe that he has been assassinated for political reasons, 
monsieur — assassinated by the members of some secret society? 


(54 THE PASSEHGEE FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

I pan^t think so myself; I never heard of any such cases in 
B&tersea during the whole time I was there, and I fancy i 
know the English people!^' 

“ Did you remember what I asked you to ascertain exactly? 
Did you ascertain exactly whereabouts in the compartment the 
slip of paper was found ?^^ 

Why, yes, monsieur. I did not forget, being interested in 
this terrible occurrence, and likewise in the painful possibility 
of the deceased being that relative of monsieur who might 'have 
traveled by the train from Amiens, though, as monsieur said, 
it was most unlikely, seeing that he had business which pre- 
vented his leaving that town during the whole of the present 
week; though one never knows what may happen at any mo- 
ment to change one^s plans or habits: witness the hatter in the 
same street as my brother-in-law, who never went out on a 
foggy evening, and never would, until one afternoon his uncle 
came from the Mauritius, and they went to the theater togefther 
— I forget the name of the piece, but it was a theater high up 
on the boulevard — and the night being a foggy one, the hatter 
coughed so much that he came home earlier than the uncle, 
through a short cut, and was assassinated and robbed, though 
he had nothing in his pockets but seven francs forty-five cen- 
times, and a silver watch that never marked the hour; while 
the uncle from the Mauritius, who had amassed a fortune and 
wore jewelry such as a prince might -not have been ashamed 
of, walked home three hours later, very gay, and was un- 
molested. It could not have been the relative of monsieur, 
because my confrere, Monsieur Aristide, the second waiter at 
the restaurant further along, heard the commissary state to his 
subordinate on the platform of the station that the ticket in 
the possession of the deceased was right through from London 
to Paris, and had been booked the night before, that is to say, 
for the mail train itself. As for the sli]) of paper which I 
spoke of^ to monsieur, it might easily have escaped atten- 
tion, for it lay partly under one of the seats at the far end.^^ 

‘‘At the far end.^ — that is to say, at a distance from the 
body of this passenger 

“ So I learned, monsieur, from the employe, thanks to the 
piece of money I remitted to him in obedience to the instruc- 
tions of monsieur, whose anxiety I. trust is now appeased, the 
unfortunate passenger being manifestly, as his railway ticket 
proves, not the relative of monsieur who resides at Amiens, 
and who might by chance have traveled in the train, though 
all doubt could be set at rest by a telegraphic message dis- 
patched to Amiens, if monsieur does not wish to go to the 


THE PASSEKGEll FEOH SCOTLAND YAED. 65 

morgue and view the body, where it will he exposed this after- 
noon, the commissary having stated that before the inquiry 
could make any progress the identification must have been dis- 
posed of. By this time, probably, the body has been delivered 
at the morgue.'’^ 

“ Did the porter, or whoever the railway servant was, de- 
scribe the slip of paper to you?"’^ 

“ Yes; it was a single sheet of white paper, like English 
note-paper, and it had been folded once — just doubled.-’^ 

And this writing you speak of — where were the characters 
traced 

‘‘ On the inside. The name and address had been written 
along the single sheet of paper, and it had then been folded in 
two — like that, the employe told me — the waiter illustrated 
his meaning by folding up the ornate bill of fare. 

‘‘ And the address — could he give you any idea of it?^^ 

‘‘ Oh, no, monsieur, except that there were two letters at 
the end of it. He knows that ‘ London ^ means ‘ Londres;^ 
but it did not say ‘ London.-’ It said ‘ S. W.-’ The name he 
could read, because it is a name we have in France — ‘ Ade- 
laide. 

Did the commissary make any remark when the slip of 
paper was handed to him?’^ inquired Toppin. 

Before replying, the waiter looked at Toppin ’s colleague, as 
if for assurance as to the locus standi of the new-comer. The 
inspector nodded, and the waiter quoted the commissary of 
police to the effect that the slip of paper must have been 
dropped by some person sitting near the far door of the com- 
partment — perhaps by the deceased himself before changing 
his seat, for there was nothing to prove that the deceased had 
occupied the same place in the compartment throughout the 
journey. 

‘‘Was there any stain upon the paper — any mark of blood, 
for instance?^'’ inquired Inspector Byde. 

“ No.^’ The waiter had expressly put that question, because 
he was aware of the great importance of blood-stains on objects 
found near persons suspected to have been murdered. He had 
read of a most extraordinary instance, in fact, in a newspaper 
taken at the hotel— not in the “ events of the day,’’ but in a 
life-like story which' had been running through its columns and 
had been collected by the chamber-maid of the first-floor in 
order to be bound — “ The Fortune-teller’s Prediction; or, the 
Posthumous Vengeance of the Murdered Heir.” The first 
thing h,e had asked the employe was whether there had been 
blood-stains upon this piece of paper, and he had felt exceed- 


66 THE PASSEKaER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

ingly disappointed to learn that there were no stains of any 
description upon it. ‘‘ Monsieur will pardon me the indiscre- 
tion/^ pursued the waiter after a pause — but would monsieur 
he, by hazard, connected at all with the English police?” 

‘‘I!” exclaimed the inspector, laughing heartily, “ connect- 
ed with the police? Ask this gentleman! Where did you get 
such an idea as that?^'’ 

“ From the station, monsieur — only vaguely, vaguely— mon- 
sieur will excuse me/^ — and the waiter joined heartily in the 
laugh at the ridiculous nature of his own supposition. “ It 
seems that an agent of the English police obtained a view of 
the compartment before M. le Commissaire himself, and that 
he took some notes, which has greatly angered M. le Coni- 
missaire, who says for all we know he may have taken not only 
his notes but something else besides. And since monsieur has 
no connection with the police I may be permitted the liberty 
of explaining that n© one of my family has ever been able to 
endure that class, and that I should have personally much re- 
gretted rendering monsieur the assistance I have sought to 
render him by interrogating the employe of the r:dlway. I 
thought, perhaps, from the interest exhibited in the unfortu- 
nate occurrence — but monsieur is perhaps architect?” He 
fflanced at the diagrams, with letters of the alphabet here and 
there, traced upon the margin of the table. 

“ Just imagine that he should have divined it!” ejaculated 
the inspector, turning with open admiration toward his col- 
league. “ What clever people they are, now, all these for- 
eigners, are they not? You haven’t heard him speak English 
yet; but he speaks it so well, in the purest accent of London, 
that you and I, being from the country, might not do ill to 
take a lesson or two. It was in Battersea that his studies were 
industriously prosecuted — and he knows the language — oh, he 
knows it!” 

Oh, yes — ^very well — London,” assented the waiter, for 
Mr. Toppin’s benefit; “ I speak in Battersea always the most 
pure. ” 

“ And just to think that he should have guessed it — archi- 
tect! What clever people they all are, to be sure!” Mr. 
Byde directed the waiter to bring him the hotel police-sheet, 
on which he had purposely deferred registering particulars 
anent himself. He then inscribed upon that precious record 
that Mr. Byde, architect, forty-five years of age, had traveled 
to Paris from the town of Brighton, in the department of Sus- 
sex; country, England. “ So that you will know, if telegrams 
or letters are delivered here for a Mr. Byde, that they are for 


THE PASSEJ^GER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 67 

me/’ lie added. What a help, Toppin/’ observed the in- 
spector, as the waiter bore away the police-book, ‘‘if we had 
all these papers to work from in England I How we could 
trace aliases, hey — how we could pounce upon stolen property 
before it had been passed along!” 

“ Yes,” replied Toppin, “ and people sometimes do fill them 
up honestly by mistake.” 

“Arcliitect! — well, well! — simple enough, and yet who’d 
have found it?” Mr. Byde effaced the diagrams dra^vn in 
pencil on the marble table. “And so we are architects: of 
other people’s fortunes — or fates. ” 

“ That young man who has been to Battersea looks to me 
as if he might be in the pay of the police himself,” said Top- 
pin. “ This is just the right spot for keeping an eye on sus- 
picious arrivals and departures, and he would not talk openl}^ 
like that about the police for nothing. He is just the sort of 
simpleton th» prefecture would get for their money — just the 
naif with a mixture of cunning. What can you expect? They 
can’t get clever people for their terms. They want agents 
everywhere, but they can’t afford to pay such a number well.” 

“We must see that slip of* paper, ff possible, Toppin; we 
must have that address, if it should be an address. You can 
have heard of this affair by chance, and you know nothing at 
all about Eemington’s identity. Can you manage it before 
the afternoon?” 

“ I think I can; though it will only be because they know 
me. It will be necessary to ascertain whether the commissary 
has kept the paper for his own report, or sent it on to the 
morgue with the body, or handed it over already to the juge 
d" instruction ; and that may occupy a little time.” 

“ Notice whether the address was in a feminine handwrit- 
ing.” 

“ Is there a woman in this case?” 

“ The name Adelaide is a name I like,” said Mr. Byde. 

He knocked the ashes out of the wooden bowl, and restored 
the smaller of the two pipes to its leathern case. 

“ Shall we walk together?” suggested Toppin. 

“ I want to put on my considering-cap !” said the inspector. 

He opened the bulkier case in black leather, and from a 
nest as soft as eider-down extracted a pipe in massive meer- 
schaum. While he filled and hghted ifc, and drew from its 
capacious bowl half a dozen preliminary puffs, the inspector 
imported into his face an expression of such deep thought that 
his colleague did not venture to break in with any queries, or 
for the moment to follow up their conversation. The case had 


68 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


evidently a feminine side: did the inspector aim at keeping 
this from him? 

“ Coming on nicely, isn't it?" remarked the inspector, at 
length, taking the pipe from his mouth, and complacently sur- 
veying the tinged meerschaum. The bowl was carved into the 
semblance of a sphinx, and was capped with a small plate of 
silver. The base had been smoked into a rich amber tint, the 
^forehead of the sphinx was sallow, a tawny blush was mantling 
in the cheeks. 

‘‘ A fine bit of meerschaum," answered Toppin, with sup- 
pressed irritation. 

A present," pursued his colleague. ‘‘ That pipe was given 
to me by a poor man who would have gone away for five years' 
‘ penal ' if it hadn't been for me. The evidence was all 
against him, you would have said; no jury would have hesitat- 
ed. I brought the right man into the dock only just in time. 
When the other was set free he would have givelk me every- 
thing that belonged to him, and the neighbors in the street he 
hves in — it was only last Michaelmas — began to subscribe for a 
testimonial to. Inspector Byde. I let the man give me this 
pipe, and what it has done for me during the past three 
months is something wonderful. I don't have to smoke at it 
long. The very last case I was in — the case I had before they 
put me on to this one — the alleged mysterious disappearance 
in the north of . London, which I dare say you read of in the 
papers — mightn't have been solved for ever so long if it hadn't 
been for this meerschaum pipe. I was smoking it when I hit 
upon the idea which gave us the key to that ingenious little 
arrangement. It's coming on nicely; but I shaU be sorry to 
see it colored, all the same." 

“ The slip of paper found in the compartment," began 
Toppin, again, “ need not have been dropped where it was 
found. ^Suppose it had been dropped near the other door, by 
the side of the victim, the draught from the window, if it was 
open, or a single gust of wind from that door, if it had been 
left open for a moment or two, might have easily drifted it 
along to the spot where it was discovered. " 

And so?" 

And so I conclude that no matter how the assassin entered 
the compartment, and whether he was there two minutes or 
two hours, the address on that scrap of paper may lead us to 
him; although we know that in practice criminals don't gen- 
erally carry about with them incriminatory morsels of paper 
ready to be dropped out of their pockets at the right moment 
for the cause of justice. Sthl, there's no reason why it 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 69 

shouldn't happen — it’s not impossible. Don’t you think the 
address mie’ht lead us to the guilty person?” 

“It might,” 

“ Then you agree with me that this piece of paper may have 
belonged to the person who was the thief and murderer?” 

“ It may have belonged to him.” 

“ And fell from his pocket, we will say, as he was stooping 
over the victim — at any rate, was dropped by him accident- 
ally?” 

“Ko.” 

“ How then?” 

“ It may have belonged to him — yes; it might indirectly 
lead us up to his identity — yes; but that a compromising half 
sheet of note-paper, just doubled, as we have heard, should bo 
carried by an intending criminal in any such place as an open 
pocket, from which it could easily fall, at exactly the wu’ong 
instant for him — no, Toppin! We see that sort of thing some- 
times, at the theater, when we take our wives; but you know 
as well as I do — ” 

“ What’s the alternative suggestion?” 

“ The address may possibly incriminate another person.” 

“Well?” 

“ The slip of paper may have been very carefully placed by 
the assassin himself where it was found.” 

“ Is that your view?” 

“Ho.” 

“ What do you say then, inspector?” demanded Toppin. 

“ I say that the half sheet of paper, doubled, may have be- 
longed to the deceased. I say that it may have been lying in 
the inner pocket of the vest, and that when that pocket was 
turned inside out, or when some other article was snatched 
from it, this piece of paper may have fallen out, and floated 
to the spot where it was found. Whether the assassin noticed 
the paper or not, would not matter. He would have no motive 
for taking it away — quite the contrary. He would be more 
likely to throw down ever3rthing which was not the particular 
object he cared for. What was done was done in a hurry. He 
had no time to replace things — besides, why should he replace 
them?” 

Granting all that, what becomes of the use of the address 
to us? We know who the victim is — we want to find the assas- 
sin.” 

“ So would other people want to find the assassin, viz., the 
original thieves. We don’t know who they are, but they must 
have had their plans laid, and this property will be worth their 


70 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

taking some trouble over. Certainly, if I am right, this ad- 
dress won^t help us to the identity of the assassin; but it may 
help us to the mode of the theft, in the first place. We had 
better see this half sheet of note-paper. ” 

The two colleagues relapsed into silence. Inspector Byde 
was finishing his pipe and staring down the cafe into the 
street, when he abruptly started to his feet, bundled the sphinx 
into its velvet resting-place, and gave Toppin some hurried in- 
structions for the afternoon. Toppin was to go on to the 
morgue, after busying himself about the address, and was to 
watch the persons who might visit that building to view the 
body. At the morgue he would be rejoined by his colleague. 
In another second the inspector was in the street. 

The fact was that from his seat in the cafe he could see the 
entrance to the telegraph office over the way, and that a figure 
just passing into that establishment had caught his attention. 
The passenger from Scotland Yard had recognized the tem- 
perance lecturer. Brother Neel. It was to ‘‘ put on his con- 
sidering cap that Mr. Byde had lingered at the Terminus 
Hotel; and he was reflecting, as he now hastened across the 
road, that what he owed to that piece of valuable meerschaum 
was extraordinary — was really, the more he thought of it, quite 
undeniable, and most extraordinary. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

Brother Neel, in issuing from the telegraph office, looked 
neither to the right nor to the left, but at a quick pace re- 
turned upon his path, directing his steps toward a by-street in 
the immediate vicinity of the northern terminus. 

The building into which he disappeared was one of the sec- 
ond or third-rate hotels that abound near all the large railway 
stations of Paris. In plain black characters the name H 6 tel 
des Nations extended across the plaster fa9ade. Inspector 
Byde noted the pretentious title, and endeavored to discover 
the designation of the street. He had just spelled out “ Rue 
de Com^Di^gne from the metal tablet on a corner house, 
when the temperance lecturer reappeared in the street, and set 
off on foot in the direction of the Rue Lafayette. 

Descending this long thoroughfare, with a preoccupied and 
earnest mien which testified to his absorption in the humani- 
tarian purposes of the I. 0 . T. A., Brother Neel abated his 
speed only when he found himself ap23roaching the rear of the 
Grand Opera House. He turned off to the right hand, and 
proceeded for a short distance along the Boulevard Hauss- 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 71 

mann. It was clear that he was well acquainted with the par- 
ticular spot which formed the objective of his journey, for, 
without pausing to regard any of the numbers, he presently 
turned into one of the entrances with such abruptness that 
ran against an individual just then passing out. Inspector 
Byde himself, taken rather unawares, pulled up more brusque- 
ly than he would have considered creditable in a subordinate — 
Toppin, for instance — had he been playing the part of a spec- 
tator merely, and hot one of the principal personages. He 
loitered at the uninteresting window of a paper-hanger ^s shop, 
and while admiring fragmentary patterns of impossible flowers, 
endeavored to keep an eye upon the door-way through which 
Brother Neel had unexpectedly vanished. He waited, and 
waited; there was no sign whatever of Brother Neel. The in- 
spector would have liked to examine the premises his friend 
was visiting; but suppose that, at the very moment he reached 
the door, he met him coming out again? That might prove 
slightly awkward for his operations in the future, and would 
be handicapping his chances prematurely. There was not 
much danger, nevertheless, of his being identified with the pas- 
senger from London who had worn the large blue spectacles 
and had been so heavily muflied up. Suppose the building 
had a double issue, and the temperance lecturer had dexter- 
ously led him up to one side of it in order to leave him there 
while he very promptly walked out at the other? For an in- 
stant the inspector felt quite nervous. Any such conduct as 
that would imply — no, it could hardly be! — and besides, he 
was quite certain that he had followed his man much too clever- 
ly to be detected. And, then, did he not know the Hotel des 
Nations, in the Eue de Compi^gne? Ah! but — how could he 
say that that address had anything to do with Brother Neel? 
A pretty state of affairs if he and Toppin were both, in the 
same morning, to allow their quarry to slip away. 

Inspector Byde moved warily up to the portals of the spacious 
vestibule into which the temperance lecturer had plunged. As 
he glanced along the handsome corridor he half expected to 
find that it communicated directly with another thoroughfare. 
On the contrary, his gaze was arrested at the extremity by the 
high walls of a court-yard, relieved here and there by evergreen 
shrubs in large buckets. Two or three neat zinc plates, bear- 
ing the names of business firms, confronted the visitor from 
the lintel of the door. Upon one of these he read: ‘‘Inter- 
national Organization of Total Abstainers (E. J. Bamber), 3e 
etage.'’^ 

Capital! Here was he — the great man sent from head-quar- 


72 


THE PASSEHGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


ters on special duty — almost thrown for a moment into a con- 
dition of panic like the veriest novice, and the next moment, 
like the veriest novice, surprised to discover that a simple tale 
Ifad been the true one. Out of sorts a little, perhaps — want 
of sleep? The inspector looked about him. Nearly opposite 
stood an establishment within which he could perceive both 
masculine and feminine heads regarding pleasantly in his direc- 
tion. Their cheeks were tinted with a delicate rose; ‘‘ all day 
the same their postures were. And they said nothing all tlie 
day.'^^ If the flowing whisker which the gentlemen exhibited 
had in each case the aspect of belonging to some one else, the 
tresses of the beauteous dames who arched their necks so 
proudly looked as though they never could have belonged to 
any one in this world, into such imposing structures had they 
been built by the expert hands of a Parisian hair-dresser. 
“ English spoken here.'’ ^ This announcement in gilt letters 
apparently aided the inspector to arrive at a decision. He 
made the shortest of detours, traversed the boulevard, and 
strolled into the hair-dresser^s premises. By installing himself 
in a favorable place, and obstinately remaining in it, he could 
still command an uninterrupted view of the entrance to the 
offices across the road. 

When his colleague had excused himself by asserting that if 
he had been thrown off the track that morning it m ust have 
been done “ as quick as lightning,^'’ Inspector Byde had re- 
sponded that to have been done as quick as lightning it must 
have been done because the men in question saw that they were 
followed. That implied a reflection upon the skill which De- 
tective Toppin brought to the performance of his j)rofessional 
duties. It, of course, also implied that the men in question 
had some reason for concealing their movements. 

Vine, alias Grainger, and Finch, alias Walker, were in- 
dubitably indicated by all the appearances of the case. Why 
on earth had he, Byde, planted himself in that barber's chair, 
with his eyes constantly leveled at the ground-floor entrance 
to the offices opposite? It was true that under any circum- 
stances he must have been condemned to inaction for the next 
few hours. The two suspicious characters designated in the 
first place by the telegrams from Scotland Yard must be sought 
for on the regular methods, and upon these Mr. Toppin was 
now engaged. The fact was, however, that in the course of a 
long experience the inspector had acquired an almost morbid 
mistrust of the “ appearances " of any case which presented 
matter calling for an interposition by the “ Yard." But there 
was another reason that guided him. He looked steadily 


THE PASSENGEll FKOM SCOTLAND YAED. 73 

across the road at the head-quarters of the society of whose 
humanitarian campaign Brother Neel was one of the zealous 
pioneers; and perhaps his cogitations took a shape perfectly 
well known to his comrades of the Yard, and commonly ex- 
pressed by those roguish persons in the simple formula: ‘‘ He 
don^t like ^emV’ 

He did not like them — no, he- could not cotton to (we 
are quoting the inspector in his hours of ease) ‘‘ the fellows 
who dressed themselves up in sham clerical clothes, wrote half 
a dozen initials after their names, and called themselves tem- 
perance missionaries or teetotal preachers It was his only 
bias, but he could not conquer it. When laying down rules of 
conduct for his son, he w^ould occasionally remark, inverting 
the old rhyme, that where the prejudice was strong the judg- 
ment would be usually weak. Unlike a gOod many people 
who are similarly addicted to the practice of generalization, 
Mr. Byde always applied his dicta to himself, and did not 
merely frame them for the rest of the world. And conse- 
quently he was quite aware that this prejudice against an entire 
order constituted a weak place in his own character. But, 
although he did his best, he could not overcome this odd an- 
tipathy. He did not like vain and idle folk; and when he was 
safe at home would scornfully dilate upon the idleness and 
vanity of these fellows who dressed themselves up in sham 
clerical clothes — a line of denunciation which was by no means 
justified by facts. He did not like these gentlemen, however, 
and once upon a time his dislike of them had led him into a 
dreadful mistake. The blunder was notorious, and the organ 
of the I. 0. T. A. in the press had made good capital out of 
it, controversially, ever since. 

The elegant and jeweled young man, pitted with the small- 
pox, who was attending gracefully to the inspector's needs, 
cut his hair very short, trimmed his beard to a point, and 
curled the waxed ends of his mustache sardonically upward. ' 
The mspector caught a glimpse in a mirror of the metamor- 
phosis thus wrought in him, and gazed at his new head with 
some astonishment and respect. 

‘‘ That youthfuls you,"’"’ observed the artist, noticing his 
look. If you came to me all the days I would arrange you 
with much taste.. You are bettaire like that than before. The 
ladies take you like that for cavalry oflicer. In FrEiice the 
ladies like very much officers 

Mr. Byde asked whether the customers of the establishment 
included any English people. 

Why, yes! great many, from the large hotels close by— En- 


74 


THE PASSEHGEE FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


glish people from Canada, America, London — all sorts; that 
was how he learned to speak the language. 

Mr. Byde did not mean travelers. He meant residents, 
people living in the neighborhood. Perhaps there were none 
living in the neighborhood? 

Oh, far don ! There was the English gentleman who kept 
the bar just down the street — un Men charmant garcon : the 
best-dressed person of all his customers — and, tenez ! there was 
M. Bambaire, who resided opposite — M. Bambaire, who was 
the agent of a great English society. The artist went to a 
drawer and produced from it a handbill, adding, as he passed 
it to his questioner, that here was a circulaire of M. Bambaire. 

The inspector gathered from the handbill that the large 
picture-room, library, and conversation-rooms of the I. 0. T. A. 
were now open at the address given below. All persons, irre- 
spective of sex or nationality, were eligible for membership on 
payment of the small subscription collected in advance quar- 
terly, half yearly, or annually. Lectures three times a week. 
Conversaziones. Full advantages of memb,ership set forth in 
the prospectuses, to be obtained from Brother E. J. Bamber, 
superintendent of Paris branch. Boulevard Haussmann. The 
site of the large lecture-room, library, conversation-rooms, 
etc., lay in the Rue Feydeau. A special appeal to English- 
speaking residents in Paris terminated the circular. 

The artist addressed a question in his own turn. Monsieur 
would be able to enlighten him as to the nature of this associa- 
tion. He had been enrolled in it by M. Bambaire, who had 
pointed to the lowness of the terms, and to the opportunities 
which wouM be afforded him of making the acquaintance of 
English heiresses, the facile prey of any fascinating Parisian. 
He had paid one visit to the new premises in the Rue Feydeau, 
but on that occasion there were no heiresses present. Was not 
the society, however, invested with some political character? 
Had it not some secret object, either reactionary or revolu- 
tionary? He had entered it in order not to forfeit the good- 
will of M. Bambaire, long a regular client, but of course he 
had his own position to think of, and the political police of 
Paris kept their eyes wide open. Mr. Byde explained the 
philanthropic purposes of the I. 0. T. A., but saw that his ac- 
count of this and kindred bodies in England only excited utter 
incredulity. League yourselves together for no other reason 
than that it suited you to abstain from alcohol! — ah, non, par 
exemple ! — trop forte, celle-la ! — Did he not think, then, that 
the future of the I. 0. T. A. was of a particularly promising 
description so far as Paris was concerned? Ho, he should 


THE PASSENGER PROM SCOTLAND YARD. 75 

rather imagine he didn^t, on such a basis as had been described 
to him by monsieur. He had heard of something of the kind 
in France: a French temperance society whose members drank 
wine freely, but engaged themselves against the abuse of alco- 
hol; but total abstention! ah, no — monsieur knew very well 
(and here the artist half-closed his eyes and tossed his head 
repeatedly, with an air of great significance) that to assign 
such a motive as that for the foundation of a society, with 
council, secretaries, agents, and all the rest of it, was not 
treating him seriously, as man to man. 

Inspector Byde responded that he could not conjecture what 
other aim could actuate the society. To inform himself more 
fully upon the subject he would step across and seek an inter- 
view with M. Bamber. When that gentleman made his next 
call upon the artist the latter might repeat their conversation, 
if he chose; Monsieur Bamber would recollect, his (the speak- 
er^’s) visit, and might consider that he owed it to the artist’s 
zeal and friendly offices. 

On mounting to the third-floor of the building opposite, the 
inspector found the residence of Brother Bamber indicated by 
a small brass-plate, very brightly polished. His summons was 
quickly answered by a female domestic servant. 

‘‘ Monsieur Bambaire?” demanded the visitor. 

Engaged for the moment,” returned the domestic, sharply. 

“ I will wait,” said the inspector, and he at once moved into 
the antechamber. 

‘‘ What name shall I announce to monsieur?” 

“ Oh, he won’t know my name; I am a stranger to him 
personally. ” 

Is it on the business of the International?” 

“ Yes, on the business of the International.” 

“ Monsieur has his card, no doubt?” 

The inspector took a blank card out of his pocket-book and 
wrote upon it in lead-pencil: “Mr. Smithson — passing through 
Paris — ventures to address himself to M. Bamber, of the 
1. 0. T. A., for information as to progress accomplished by 
this interesting movement.” Watching him as he was thus 
occupied, the smartly attired French maid-servant, whose tone 
and manner had been acidly impertinent, softened at the spec- 
tacle of his military mustache, and inhaled quite pleasurably 
the perfumes with which the inspector had just been inun- 
dated. She received the card with a coquettish smile, and 
tripped into one of the apartments communicating with the 
vestibule. There was an appreciative expression about the in- 


76 THE PASSEHGEE FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

specter’s face as lie gazed after her. He had an eye for the 
sex when he was out of his own country. 

Yes, his expression was most thoroughly appreciative. His 
instantaneous process of induction had already led him far. 
This Brother Bamber — 

Inspector Byde brought his hand down heavily on the arm 
of the chair. Would he never subdue that mischievous preju- 
dice? The dreadful blunder he had perpetrated — was it to 
teach him no lesson? Was he fated to repeat it, and would 
he be lured on to a second disastrous error by some illusively 
apparent possibility of redeeming the first? 

The sprightly French maid returned with the message that 
M. Bamber, being extremely busy, begged to be excused just 
then, but that madame could furnish the visitor with the in- 
formation he desired, if M. Smithson would be good enough to 
wait for some few minutes. Mr. Byde was perfectly willing 
to wait, he said; and he directed a professional scrutiny at the 
damsel who delivered the message. The report he drew up 
mentally of this young person might have been of a less fiatter- 
ing nature than she seemed to suppose. She furtively 
smoothed her raven locks; and, as she looked upward at her 
interlocutor, pressed her chin down tightly against her chest 
in order that her large dark eyes should open widely and dis- 
play their fullest luster. Mr. Byde thanked her, and with a 
grim smile began to pace up and down the antechamber. He 
was familiar with all these feminine shows of artlessness. To 
encounter them in the “ vivacious French brunette ” appealed 
in a powerful degree to his rather cynical sense of humoi\ 

It was an old friend of his, who had lived a good deal on the 
Continent and in the foreign colonies of London, who used to 
attack so vehemently the consecrated phrases, ‘^vivacious 
French brunette,” “the exquisite politeness of old French 
marquises,” “typically impassive French duelist,” “fasci- 
nation of the Parisian manner,” etc. He used to say that all 
those phrases were false, that some of them the French them- 
selves would be the last to claim. It would have been almost 
perilous to employ these stereotypes, understood to have been 
as a rule devised by lady writers, in conversation v/ith the in- 
spector’s old friend on his bilious days; and it was assuredly a 
symptom of intellectual decline that the ordinary illusions of 
“ piquant Par “ bright and cheerful French waiting- 
maid, so willing and so clean,” “ jolly little French girl— quite 
the griseUe, don’t you know, out of the Latin Quarter,” could 
sometimes deprive him of articulate speech, so misguided and 
inane they seemed to him. Of course he must have been 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


hypersensitive and ultrabilious. At the same time, in such 
strange ways had his life been cast that he knew all about the 
dessotis des cartes, that is to say, the ‘‘ wheels within wheels 
of the entire machinery. Any one of the foregoing phrases, 
harmless as they were, would launch him into some anecdote 
or narrative which, commonplace at the commencement, in- 
credible at the^end, would be drawn from the dark stores of 
his own experience. The inspector had first met his old friend 
years before, amid surroundings which they never referred to 
afterward, except when alone. He had a great respect for his 
old friend^s erudition, by the way. 

The passenger from Scotland Yard suddenly laughed out- 
right. He v^as picturing this “ vivacious French brunette 
imported into the service of an honest middle-class English 
family. She had brushed by him with short, quick, studied 
steps, and with an air of unconsciousness that was delightfully 
artificial. How pleasant, he thought maliciously, she would 
make herself toward the young ladies of the house — how 
materfamilias would extol her prompt obedience! And then 
a day would come — well, well — whoever would have guessed 
it! The interposition of the ‘‘Yard^^ was not demanded 
always in these cases when they happened in England; but 
materfamilias, who had possibly missed one or two of her most 
valuable trinkets as well, would resolve that no further im- 
portation of the same article should ever take place so far as 
her own household was concerned. The “ vivacious French 
brunette,^^ however, who has graduated in the faubourgs, 
seldom strays into a northern clime unless under circumstances 
independent of her choice. " '* ►m the northern climes 



The gay Lothario — 


are far more ready to travel 


“ That haughty, gallant, gay Lothario, 
That dear perfidious!” 


— who graduates at Hoxton or at Cambridge, at Oxford or at 
Eosherville, at Eichmond, Houndsditch, oT the Haymarket, 
will not infrequently extend his researches to the seats of learn- 
ing endowed in “ Parry. But he looks vainly for Calista in 
the faubourgs. He encounters the vivacious brunette instead 
of that tearful penitent, and he probably observes that in the 
faubourien soil the tree of knowledge fiourishes in the rankest 
luxuriance. Overweighted by his role, and for the occasion 
resigning it, Lothario perhaps reflects with bitterness that the 
true Calista was a much more tolerable person than this make- 
believe, whose boundless lore he never, never would have sus- 
pected. What! This vivacious French brunette, tliis piquant 


78 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

Parisienne, this bright and willing French waiting-maid^- this 
“ jolly little French girl, don't you know, quite the grmtte 
out of the Latin Quarter," has been passing her life-time under 
the shadow of a knowledge-tree whose giant variety was not 
even mentioned in the text-books of his Alma Mater? Ah, 
Sir Lothario, yes! If a native-born faubourienne, she has 
learned many secrets from the lush branches of that tree. 

Mr. Smithson?" ^ 

The speaker was a lady who had advanced from one of the 
apartments into the antechamber. She was a pale and 
prematurely wrinkled blonde, of a gentle and sympathetic ex- 
pression of face. Her violet silk dress, which rustled at every 
instant, was all awry, as though it had been hastily donned for 
the meeting with the visitor; and with it had been assumed a 
mincing manner and an affected pronunciation, both sustained 
with difficulty, but well meant. The inspector, whose busi- 
ness took him everywhere, recognized the type of domestic 
martyr. 

“ My husband is unfortunately occupied at the present mo- 
ment on important business of the society," pursued the lady. 
“ If there is any information I can fui-nish I shall be most 
happy, I am sure. We are all enthusiasts in the good work." 

As a well-wisher to the cause, Mr. Byde held forth with 
great fluency on the general question, and followed these re- 
marks up with professions of solicitude for the prospects of the 
International. It was a noble movement, he observed. 

‘‘ A noble movement, indeed," concurred his hostess; but 
we are still only at the outset of the good work. Funds are 
what we need most urgently, and all our friends should do 
their best to aid us in rendering our strenuous efforts fruitful. 
Are you a member, sir, of the I. 0. T. A. ? I do not think we 
have the name of Smithson on our list. The most practical 
way of helping on the good work is by personal membership 
and by donations. I could enroll you in the society at once. 
We need no proposers and seconders, nor do we care to prose- 
cute inquiries as to our new .members, preferring to trust to 
their own assurances, to rely upon their own representations— 
for what is more demoralizing than mistrust? There is a 
nominal entrance-fee, and the subscription is payable in ad- 
vance." 

Mr. Byde would^ certainly be proud indeed to link himself 
to a grand enterprise that might prove the common salvation 
and uniflcation of vast communities, hitherto separated stern- 
ly from one another by history, by language, and by race. But 
he must be so well known, he believed, at the head-quarters 


THE PASSEHGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


79 


of the International in London that the directors there would 
take it ill of him if he entered the stream at any other point 
than at its fountain-head. A feeling of the deepest sympathy 
'for the good work, together with an ardent wish to form the 
acquaintance of Brother Bamber, whose devotion to the tem- 
perance cause was famed throughout its ranks, had impelled 
him to venture these inquiries, profiting by a temporary visit 
to the French metropolis. He regretted to have presented 
himself at an inopportune moment; Brother Bamber would 
naturally be absorbed by his regular duties at this particular 
period of the day. 

Oh, dear, no— not at all! Mr. Bamber^s onerous duties en- 
grossed his time all day long, from morning until late, very- 
late, at night; but ordinarily he was accessible at any hour to 
Avell-wishers of the good work. The exceptional occurrence 
which demanded his attention at the present moment was the 
visit of a colleague from head-quarters. One of the most in- 
dustrious and eloquent lecturers of the society had arrived that 
morning in Paris, having traveled from London by the night 
mail. He was the bearer of instructions and counsel from the 
board, and had of course at once sought an interview with her 
husband. If Mr. Smithson could wait a little , longer, both 
Brother Neel — the eminent lecturer to whom she had referred 
— and Mr. Bamber would be exceedingly happy to receive him. 

The conversation had continued in the drawing-room, which 
opened on to the vestibule. Mr. Byde could hear a murmur 
of voices in the apartment adjoining, and incidentally remarked 
upon the fact. The voices were perhaps those of Brother Bam- 
ber and his colleague? Yes, replied his hostess — the adjoining 
apartment served Mr. Bamber as his private office. 

‘‘ And what may have been the progress of the last three 
months, should you say?'’*’ inquired the inspector, most en- 
gagingly. 

“ Much good has been done by the International in Paris 
during the three months just ended — thanks, I may say, to 
my husband^s untiring zeal and energy. The enrollments 
show an increase over the previous quarter, and they are at 
length becoming of a decidedly international character. We 
find that we have only to make the idea known to insure re- 
cruits. The French are always greatly impressed by the novelty 
of the idea and its humanitarian character, as well as by the 
practical methods of the organization. Other bodies of the 
same order have appealed too exclusively to the young. Our 
society recruits its members irrespective of age, and of course 
from among all nationalities. We meet with obstacles, and. 


80 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

singularly enougli, they are not raised by the general public, or 
by classes whose vested, interests might suifer through our suc- 
cess; our annoyances have occasionally sprung from the 
regularly constituted authorities, who, it seems, misapprehend 
the nature of our association in the most extraordinary man- 
ner. My husband tells me that he has more than once been 
followed and watched by French detectives. We feel certain 
that there are members of both tlie criminal and pohtical 
secret police who have enrolled themselves among us here! 
Odd, is it not?'’^ 

Mrs. Bamber recited this discourse like a lesson, and at its 
close laughed with a curiously shrill abruptness. 

“ There was a friend of mine named Bamber,'’^ said In- 
spector Byde, tentatively, but with quite a friendly warmth; ‘‘ a 
very dear friend of mine who came from Chicago, and whom 
I have not seen for two or three years. His name was Fitzpat- 
rick Justin Bamber. Would it be the same — though I do not 
think he then had temperance leanings? Perhaps it is not my 
old friend?'^ 

Oh, no! Mr. Bamber’s initials are ‘ E. J.^ — Egan Jewel 
Bamber. He resided in America for some time, but never, I 
believe, at Ohicago. 

“ A mementos thought might have convinced me,^'’ pur- 
sued the inspector, more cordially than ever; of course it 
could not be my old friend. A pleasant lookout from this 
window — most pleasant !^^ 

“ Yes, is it not a pleasant lookout 

“ Charming in summer, I should fancy?^^ 

‘‘ Very agreeable in summer. 

‘‘ And that, I presume, would be the boulevard below — the 
Boulevard Haussmann?'’^ 

“Yes, that is the boulevard; a pleasant thoroughfare, and 
conveniently situated. 

“ My old friend Bamber retired to Rome, I think; and that 
must have been at a date prior to the foundation of the 
I. 0. T. A., with wMch, indeed, he could hardly have co- 
operated long. Political societies were the only organizations 
he understood or cared about. 

“ Oh, dear me! There is a wide difference between any- 
thing of that sort and the I. 0. T. A.-’^ 

“ Why, naturally — naturally !^^ The inspector joined a few 
genial bass notes to the shrill volley emitted by Brother Bam- 
ber s better half. He transferred his gaze from her false 
teeth to her glassy eyes, and added: “ My friend Fitzpatrick 
Justm was one of Americans most glorious sons, although he 


THE PASSEISTGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


81 


shrunk from fame. He led the new school of revolutionary 
heroes and had done a great deal of good work with dyna- 
mite.'’^ 

Mr. Byde reiterated fragments of these two sentences as 
though gratified with their sound. The undisguised expres- 
sion to be seen upon the countenance opposite his own was one 
of alarm at the revolutionary sympathies he appeared to ex- 
press. Whatever might have been his views with reference to 
Brother Bamber, it was clear that this worthy dame must be 
absolved from any complicity in secret propaganda such as he 
seemed to suspect. Poor woman! in the lines of her face he 
did not read happiness. What he read between the lines was 
meekness and a narrow intelligence — the capacity of thinking 
in a limited rotation of ideas, and of learning accurately by 
rote. 

Inspector Byde was well aware of the advantages accruing 
to conspiracies by the employment of women in the more dan- 
gerous portions of their work. If the errand of the female 
emissary succeeded, the conspirators exulted over their own 
superior cunning, or, with more modesty, reviled the stupidity 
of their foes; whereas if the superior cunning of their foes de- 
tected the little mission of their female emissary, and obstructed 
its course ungallantly, there remained always the recourse to 
indignant championship of weak women; the other side were 
cowardly and brutal, subjecting delicately nurtured ladies — 
mothers devoted to their sons, or, as the case might be, inno- 
cent young girls who had nursed their brothers on the bed of 
sickness — to outrageous insult. But the physiognomy now 
before him, said Mr. Byde, inwardly, altogether vindicated 
the amiable Mrs. Bamber. Vindicated her? Of what? Here 
he stood once more, yielding to this terrible bias! Why should 
there exist any corelation between the Fitzpatrick he had m- 
vented, and the Egan who sat in the next room conferring 
upon the business of the International? The conference ap- 
peared to be over. He heard the two colleagues moving to- 
ward the door. If for the sake of his peace of mind alone, he 
fervently hoped at that minute, as he regarded his hostess 
\vith contrition, that the physiognomy of Brother Bamber 
might prove the fitting counterpart of hers. 

The hostess advanced to meet her husband, and conveyed 
some intimation to him before he crossed the threshold. 

“Welcome, dear friend, said Brother Bamber, as he ap- 
proached from the door-way with outstretched hands. 

He was a man of slender build and fair complexion. What 
hair he had was of so light a color that he might have been 


82 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

supposed entirely bald. His eyelashes were of the same hue 
as his hair; and not much deeper in their shade were his eye- 
brows and long, silky beard. He wore gold-rimmed spectacles; 
and, as he now smiled, fixedly, the gold stoppings of his front 
teeth gleamed at Inspector Byde. 

‘‘An esteemed colleague from London,^" added Brother 
Bamber, introducing Brother Neel. The latter came forward 
with a pompous demeanor and deliberate gait. It was plain 
that he had no recollection of the passenger from Scotland 
lArd. Mr. Byde again explained the deep interest which, as 
a consistent upholder of the good work during twenty-tlu’ee 
years, he felt in its latest development, this courageous enter- 
prise; and then a chorus of expletive platitudes ensued. “We 
were intending to step down to the new mission-rooms of the 
league in the Eue Feydeau, concluded Brother Bamber. 

Mr. Byde observed that he should be delighted to accom- 
pany them. 

“ Victorine!^^ called Brother Bamber. 

The vivacious brunette tripped into the antechamber in an- 
swer to the summons. Her master demanded his hat, over- 
coat, etc., and she furnished him with those articles with an 
air of efiusive naivete which perhaps only the inspector proper- 
ly appreciated. A parcels-delivery porter presented himself at 
the apartment just as they were ready to leave. Victorine re- 
ceived the package, and handed the book to her master to 
sign with the most captivating jauntiness imaginable. In- 
spector Byde could hardly suppress that grim smile of his as 
he watched her. Brother Neel watched her also; and the 
better half of Brother Bamber, as he stood aloof, likewise 
watched her. As for Brother Bamber himself, he did not once 
direct a glance at Victorine. He placed his signature in the 
book in a perfunctory manner, and gave a brief direction 
about the package. It looked like a stout wooden box, in shape 
like nothing so much as an ordinary household gas-meter. 
From the inscription on the red label of the European Ex- 
press, the package seemed to have been consigned to Paris 
from Boston, U. S. 


CHAPTER IX. 

On their way to the Rue Feydeau, Brother Bamber favored 
“ Mr. Smithson with a batch of most interesting statistics, 
proving that, soon or late, the crusade of the I. 0. T. A. must 
inevitably prevail. The statistics were drawn from Ms own 
past reports and from those of Ms colleagues. All they need 


THD PASSENGEK from SCOTLAND YARD. 83 

do was to push the good work boldly forward; adherents 
would ally themselves spontaneously with the cause. His per- 
sonal experience enabled him to attest this as a certainty. 
Why, even the retail wine-dealer, who supplied his household 
with mineral waters, had joined the I. 0. T, A. ; and the hair- 
dresser opposite his private residence had called upon him on 
Sunday morning just as he was going to chapel, and of his 
own free will had taken out a two years^ subscription, payable 
in advance. 

Brother Heel supplemented his colleague's figures by an 
array of convincing arguments extracted from the professional 
repertory. As the inspector listened to both voices he decided 
that at any rate Brother Bamber was in complete ignorance of 
the tragic event of that morning. Brother Heel excited his 
admiration while he talked. He had good tones, and used 
them skillfully. The matter of his homily might he trite and 
shallow, but the organ was so musically persuasive! And with 
what a beatific serenity he looked, and walked, and waited! 
To bring the case home to a man like this, mused Inspector 
Byde, would atone thrice over for that great mistake. 

Brother Bamber smiled with irritating frequency in conver- 
sation. Brother Heel never smiled, or scarcely ever, but 
seemed continually upon the point of smiling — which perhaps 
excited in the spectator quite as keen an irritation. Of the 
two heads, that of Brother Heel would manifestly the better 
adorn a public platform or the head of a procession. He wore 
his oiled hair long, and without a parting; combed carefully 
straight hack, it left exposed to view the whole extent of a 
forehead which the most vulgar would have recognized as 
noble. His dark locks, neatly smoothed behind his ears, and at 
the nape of his neck terminating in a fringe, gave him in 
some unaccountable way the air generic to the fifth-rate p6et, 
the tenth-rate tragedian, the twelfth-rate family doctor, the 
foreign pianist, and the professor of legerdemain who lets him- 
self out for evening parties. His clean-shaven visage looked 
blue, and the sturdiness of his frame might have fitted him for 
missionary work among savages. 

‘‘ You must find yoiir labors excessively fatiguing, re- 
marked the inspector to Brother Heel — ‘‘ as traveling lecturer, 
I mean. When did you run over from England?^ ^ 

“ I arrived this morning only,^^ was the reply; “ I came by 
the night mail from London. 

‘‘ The journey not too wearisome 
Oh, I am accustomed to it by this time, and I am an ex- 
cellent traveler, I should tell you, dear friend. When we 


84 THE PASSEXaER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

have once made the crossing, I can generally sleep through 
the remainder of the journey.-’^ 

Especially at night, I suppose— like me?” hazarded the 
inspector, geniality itself. 

Especially at night. 

“ Then by the night mail you would be due in Paris by — 
We arrived at six this morning, or thereabouts.” 

The inspector followed these apparently aimless questions 
by some others of no greater seeming importance, but perhaps 
tending remotely toward the same end. When he had ex- 
ercised his ingenuity to his heart’s content, he was obh'ged to 
acknowledge that he remained just as wise as at the outset, 
and no wiser. One test, however, yet lay within his reach. 
It was with a growing eagerness that he awaited an oppor- 
tunity for applying that test. 

Brother Bamber showed them all the premises in the Rue 
Feydeau: the meeting-hall, the committee-rooms, and the 
space allotted to recreation, education, and conversation. It 
was small, he acknowledged, as compared with the parent un- 
dertakings in England, but as the movement expanded, so 
they could increase the accommodation by the establishment of 
district branches. Here stood the members’ lending library. 
They had standard authors in both languages; works on poli- 
tics and history; a few French novels, and fewer English 
scientific works; and, thanks to the munificence of private 
donors, a perfect store-house of temperance literature. The 
French novels and the English scientific works were subjected 
to the most rigid scrutiny before being admitted to their shelves. 
Rooms were specially set aside for chess, draughts, and cards, 
which were permitted on week-days, but not for money stakes. 

Brother Bamber wound up an harangue on the glorious fut- 
ure of the I. 0. T. A. by correcting a well-known apothegm. 
Instead of cheaply pronouncing that “ Le cUricalisme, voila 
Vennemi,” Gambetta should have thundered into the ears of 
his compatriots that the enemy to be combated was “ alcohol- 
ism,” or simply alcohol. ‘‘ U alcohol, voila Vennemi !” — how 
would that do for their motto here? ‘‘ Very well indeed,” 
said Mr. Byde. 

^ A French gentleman, in a threadbare tall hat and frayed 
linen, advanced mincingly toward the three visitors, and, with 
the obeisance which betrays the lively sense of favors to come, 
presented Brother Bamber with an account. 

‘"One of our French agents,” explained . Brother Bamber; 
“ a little bill for the out-door propaganda. That gentleman 


THE PASSENGER PROM SCOTLAND YARD. 85 

waiting over there is one oi his English colleagues charged with 
the management of our European correspondence.'’^ 

Mr. Byde noticed that in the brief communication which the 
English colleague had to make to Brother Bamber, he pre- 
ferred to employ, or employed unwittingly, the Irish dialect of 
the English language as spoken -in America. 

Their tour of the premises completed, they descended into 
the street. As they moved in the direction of the Bourse, a 
hawker ran by them with his arms full of freshly printed news- 
papers. He was shouting the contents of the journal, and ap- 
peared to be hurrying toward the main line of boulevards. 
Another hawker, folding his papers as he hastened along, fol- 
lowed at a little distance, and behind him they presently per- 
ceived one more, likewise calling out the sensational news. 

The first of the evening papers,'’'’ remarked Brother 'Bam- 
ber. “ What is that he is calling? Another murder 

‘‘Assassination of an Englishman — mysterious affair 
shouted the first hawker. 

“ Strange discovery in this morning’s mail train from Lon- 
don,” called the next, out of breath — “ robbery not the object 
of the crime!” 

“ The murder of an Englishman this morning,'” repeated a 
third — “ the police on the track of the assassin!” 

Brother Heel purchased a copy of the newspaper. 

“ Eobbeiy not the motive of the crime!'” commented Broth- 
er Bamber. “ What then?” 

His colleague -spread the paper open, and they halted to 
peruse the latest intelligence. It was not difficult to discover 
the item in question. Lines in large black characters an- 
nounced — Assassinat d’ un Anglais — Un drame intime!” 

“ Bless me!” exclaimed Brother Heel, after a glance at the 
opening sentences. “ That must have been the train I traveled 
in myself.'’'’ 

“ The very train you journeyed by from London!” echoed 
his colleague. “ Eeally, now!” 

“ Eobbery not the motive of the crime?” repeated the sup- 
posititious Mr. Smithson. “ What do they think, then? A 
secret society at work?” 

Brother Bamber looked over his gold spectacles at the 
speaker. 

“ Secret societies among Englishmen?” said he, smiling 
fixedly. 

“ Ho,” returned Mr. Smithson — “ not among them: against 
them.” 

“ In France?” 


86 THE PASSEI^GER FROM SCOTLAFTD YARD. 

“ Perhaps. In France — but not French. 

Surely you don^t mean — you don^t mean the old revolu-' 
tionists, the American dynamiters?^’ 

“ Oh, personally, I don’t mean anybody, or anything! Let 
us see what the paper sap.” 

“ But the old revolutionists who worked from Paris,” per- 
sisted Brother Bamber, who, with his head erect, was regard- 
ing the other full through his glasses — “ every man of them 
has long been known to the police, and none of them could stir 
without detection, I understood.” 

“ Indeed? And so they are all known and watched — the 
centers, the head-centers, and the rest of the veterans here?” 

“ That is the general impression in what I may call the 
official British colony, which is the source of my own informa- 
tion. And a very necessary precaution — a most reassuring 
state of affairs. In that way they are absolutely compelled to 
remain inactive.” 

“ Of course they are. The veterans can do nothing while 
they are watched by the police; which, from what I have 
heard, accounts for their inaction while their younger con- 
federates, who are not in the least known to the police, go on 
with the campaign. ” 

There was not the faintest tinge of irony in the speaker’s 
tone. 

‘‘ Why, I had understood fchat the association was on the 
point of collapse — the association of American dynamiters?” 

“ So had I,” responded Mr. Smithson, the picture of stupid- 
ity for the moment. 

Brother Neel handed the newspaper to his colleague of the 
I. 0. T. A. The latter translated the paragraph, and read it 
aloud. After setting forth the circumstances of the discovery, 
the paragraph proceeded as follows: 

“We are enabled to state that the few papers which have 
been found in the possession of the deceased are not of a nature 
to establish his identity. The crime has manifestly not been 
committed for the sake of plunder. The pockets contained 
loose money amounting to a considerable sum, and the jewelry 
worn by the deceased has been left untouched. Either of the 
ordinary hypotheses becomes, therefore, at once disposed of, 
the idea of suicide being entirely precluded. Must we seek for 
the clew to this crime in some story of private feud, in some 
family vendetta, some tale of heartless betrayal or malignant 
jealousy? From time to time, indeed, the hypocrisy of English 
social life is brought home to those of us who have suffered 
ourselves to be imposed upon by Pharisaical airs of superior 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


87 


yirtue. Scandals of incredible magnitude, dragged from time 
to time into the light of day, remind us opportunely that be- 
neath the apparent fastidiousness of our starched neighbors we 
may discover a corruption of manners to which the most 
licentious period of ancient Eome affords the only fitting 
parallel. Happily, we French — nous autres Fran^ais — are 
not like our Britannic neighbors. We may possess our faults 
— who can say that he is impeccable? — but our candor redeems 
them. The characteristic of France is generosity of thought, 
word, and action; that of England, an egotistical hypocrisy. 
The French are valiant, impulsive, and trusting; the English 
are calculating, cold,. and braggart. Ah, pudique Albion — 
down with the mask! Our good police of Paris are already un- 
muzzled, and we may confidently expect a prompt unraveling 
of this latest mystery. One thing we may promise to British 
society, with its p3n'amid of cant — this term has been invent- 
ed by the English themselves, to express their own hypocrisy 
— we can safely promise that whatever may be the tale of scan- 
dalous vice connected with the tragedy of this morning^s mail, 
the Paris press will be no party to its concealment. For our 
part, we shall give the most ample details. Our own relations 
with the prefecture of police have been too often turned to the 
advantage of our readers for any doubt whatever to exist as to 
our ability to place before the public any matters which may 
come to the knowledge of the authorities. We shall keep our 
readers closely informed of every development in this myste- 
rious affair. The sources of information at our own disposal, 
independently of the prefecture, are both varied and trust- 
worthy. We will not say that we are not, even at this early 
juncture, in the possession of facts that might in a material 
degree influence the conduct of the inquiry. But to the 
police, who profess to have discovered something in the nature 
of an indication, we will do no more than offer the proverbial, 
but eternally true, counsel, ‘ Cherchez la femme !’ The body 
has been transported to the morgue for identification.^'’ 

My train seems to have been selected by criminals,^'’ ob- 
served Brother l^eel. We had an arrest at Hover — a sensa- 
tional diamond robbery case, we were told. 

‘‘ If you could recognize the deceased as a f ellow- traveler, 
said Mr. Smithson, ‘‘ it might be possible for you to help the 
authorities here in the matter of identification.'’'’ 

‘‘ I do not think there could have been anybody in the train 
who was personally known to me,^^ replied the other. 

“We might make a visit to the morgue, if it is nqt too far 


88 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

from here/^ contirmed Mr. Smithson; “ we might just look in 
and see the body.'’^ 

“ A somewhat ghastly spectacle/ ^objected Brother Bamber. 

‘‘ People connected with the police are so peculiar/^ went 
on Mr. Smithson, that if it were ascertained that our dear 
friend here had traveled by this very train, and in such a case 
as this had shown no curiosity as to the person murdered — a 
person whom he might possibly have noticed in conversation 
with suspicious individuals — they might subject our dear friend 
to all kinds of inconvenience.-’^ 

‘‘ That is true,^^ said Brother Neel — and, for the sake of 
the I. 0. T. A., anything of that kind must be carefully avoid- 
ed. If the deceased should be some one whom I happened to 
notice in the society of other persons there will be no harm in 
my volunteering the statement to the authorities. My evidence 
might prove useful in the future — who knows? — in corrobora- 
tion of other testimony. And if the deceased should be some 
passenger whom I am certain I have never seen, why then 
there would be no reason for my coming forward. I should 
say nothing whatever about my presence in the mail train, 
and there, so far as I am concerned, the matter would ter- 
minate.^^ 

“ As you like,^^ acquiesced his colleague. 

They bent their steps in the direction of Notre Dame. 
Traversing one of the bridges, they arrived on the island 
which at this point divides the Seine. In a few minutes they 
were at the towers of Notre Dame. 

Passing to the rear of the cathedral, and skirting the little 
gardens which there lie, the inspector, and his companions saw 
that groups of idlers had alre^y congregated in front of the 
morgue. Persons were- also approachhig from the bridges on 
both sides, and others were ascending the two or three steps at 
the entrance to the building. Visitors who had satisfied their 
curiosity lounged through the door-way and down the steps, 
and augmented the knots of debaters scattered along the pave- 
ment. Some of the women and children were cracking nuts 
and eating sweetmeats, purchased from itinerant venders who 
had stationed their barrows at the side of the road. One 
hawker was endeavoring to sell boot-laces; another was enumer-- 
ating the titles of the comic songs which he exhibited in cheap 
leafiets, strung together on a wooden frame. 

“ And so this is the morgue exclaimed Mr. Smithson, 
gaping at the long, plain structure opposite the gardens. 

Any one would have afiirmed most positively that Mr. Smith- 
son had never visited the spot before. As they mounted the 


THE PASSEHGEK FKOM SCOTLAND YAKD. 89 

stone steps. Brother Neel stoppecl short, and Mr. Smithson, 
who had followed close upon his heels, stumbled against him. 
He turned back for an instant, but only to make a small pur- 
chase at one of the bari’ows. 

The air, the aspect, the associations of the sinister place 
might have alfected momentarily the stoutest heart. It was 
not that the atmosphere could have been condemned by any 
sanitary inspector; nor that the naked walls, with c^rt official 
notices to the public painted in plain capitals here and there, 
recalled the infected charnel-house, or frightful images of cor- 
ruption which at some time or another we have most of us re- 
ceived into our minds, and which we carry about with us buried 
to the utmost depth, out of view and apparently forgotten, 
but capable of brusquely rising from their dark recess under a 
single lurid ray. It was not that the living who were issuing 
from these portals had drawn into their lungs unconsciously 
the icy, stagnant air poisoned by the dead. The morgue was 
a peep-show, not a reception-room. 

The groups now issuing from its portals had been staring 
through beautiful panes of plate-glass. A hand-rail hindered 
them from approaching near enough to dim the crystal with 
their breath, to flatten their noses at its surface, or to shatter 
the entire frame in their ingenuous eagerness to feast then* eyes 
upon the corpses. To hmder the ladies and gentlemen who 
flocked hither on a good day from scratching their names, 
or scriptural texts, or possibly a humorous — even a ribald — 
couplet upon the windows of the morgue, a safeguard more 
effectual was at hand. Officers of the establishment kept a 
keen watch on the company — an excellent precaution for more 
reasons than one. And where stood these officers? Oh, who 
could say? That was the dress — the semi-livery worn by the 
old campaigner yonder who was certainly just now chewing 
tobacco. There were others who wore no livery of any kind, 
and who on “ good days would get into conversation with 
likely strangers. Were these really dead persons? they would 
perhaps ask — these figures extended upon sloping couches, and 
to all appearance gazing intelligently at the spectator — were 
they actually dead human beings, or imitations of the same, in 
wax? The murderer who has swaggered into the presence of 
his victim, out of bravado, or whom the fascination of his 
crime attracts and rivets to this spot, must, like his accomplice 
who has mingled with the crowd for purposes of information, 
beware of such lynx-eyed, casual neighbors, with their simple 
questions and their homely garb. 

No; if the air on this side of the enormous glass panes could 


90 TfiE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

be condemned by any sanitary inspector, its noxious germs 
must have been given forth by the living who thus thronged 
the temporary habitation of the dead. Men, women, and 
children pushed forward indiscriminately to the great peep- 
show. You could see the bodies here for nothing, while at the 
wax-works in the fairs there were always a few sous to pay at 
the doors, to say nothing of the extras for the models of ana- 
tomical curiosities and the catalogue; there might be a good 
many more varieties of death exhibited in the wax-works at 
the fairs, but the figures were not, as a rule, well finished off 
like these, and that one over there had just been brought in — 
murdered only that morning, and the assassin had escaped. 
He was a foreigner, the paper said — a German. Non, ma- 
dame, 'pardon — an Englishman! Well, was it not the same 
thing — English— German — was not all that just the same? 
Not at all, inadame, if you will permit me — two quite different 
peoples. I don^t say that the Americans and the Germans 
might not be near together, but the Germans and the English 
belong to different countries, although the English can speak 
American. Well — English, American, German — all that was 
the same thing so far as the French were concerned. Why 
could they not stay in their own countries? They all hated 
France. Ah non, madame, je vousdemande pardon — in mat- 
ters of that sort — ‘‘In matters of that sort Was it not 
only well known that every one of these foreign countries hated 
France because France had conquered them all in the past, 
and they were afraid that she would get strong enough to con- 
quer them all again? And for that reason they sent spies into 
France. There were some people about- who professed to 
know everything, and always wanted to correct the rest of the 
world. She was only a poor widow who supported herself, an 
invalid sister, and two children, by hard work; but she had 
not seen the coup d^etat, the fall of the empire, the siege, and 
the Commune without becoming qualified to say something 
about pohtics — tiens ! That might be very true, 'madame, but 
all the same the body over there which they would perceive 
presently, when their turns came, was that of an Englishman. 
“ I want to see the body of the Englishman who was mur- 
dered! Take me up, papa! I want to see,"*^ etc. “Yes, yes, 
yes, papa will show to his little Louis the body of the,^^ etc. 
“No, I want to see it now! I icill see it now! That gentle- 
man is treading on me; they are crushing my new hat! No, I 
donT want any more cakes: I want to see the body of the En- 
glishman who was. mui’dered! Take me up and show me,^^ 
etc., etc. 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 91 

Housekeepers returning from market, with their baskets of 
provisions on their arms; nurse-maids dragging their little 
charges along by the hand after them; work-girls chattering 
to be overheard, and giggling with the superannuated coureurs 
who had remarked them in the next street but one, or who 
had been struck by their piquant carriage as they flirted 
through the garden opposite — “ Est-elle gentille!^^ “ He — la 
Uondinette !” — a sprinkling of blue blouses; bank messengers; 
a priest or two; barristers from the law courts hard by; an 
occasional apparition in fur, lace, and velvet, of which the 
masculine sense retained a vague impression of the thick veil, a 
hat, and a muff, together with the faintest odor of white rose: 
to this restless and changing throng came Brothers Neel and 
Bamber, accompanied by “Mr. Smithson. Brother Neel 
had stopped a second time; but merely to glance over the 
frames of photographs nailed against the wall. Of that ghast- 
ly collection the originals had tenanted the morgue, nameless; 
and nameless they had been lifted from their coucheg, on the 
other side of the plate-glass windows, when — 

It was surely most improbable that Brother Neel could have 
known the originals of any portraits exhibited within these 
precincts. They were all neatly numbered, and they thus 
awaited, with the last look which death imprinted upon their 
faces, either the chance. recognition of some passer-by, or their 
ultimate consignment to complete oblivion. Poor, disfigured, 
features, durable enough on the photographer's film of paper, 
but too transitory in the mold which nature gave them: who 
could say what tragic story they had not provoked or witnessed 
— who could divine the occasion of that cast of terror, the 
humor of this lingering smile, the anger of that lowering brow, 
the secret of those disconcerting, sightless orbs.^ Several of 
the heads bore wounds that had been strapped up after death 
— merciless gashes, some of them; others, swollen and bloated, 
wore the sullen, almost animal, look to be observed among the 
drowned whose bodies have lain long immersed; a few revealed 
the sharp contractions of despair and anguish marking the 
victim who, in the French phrase, “sees himself die, and 
rebels against his fate. 

“PKEFECTURE DE POLICE. 

“ Notice. 

“ The public are invited to make a declaration of the name of 
any individual whom they may recognize^ to the registrar's 
office, at the morgue. 


92 THE PASSENGER PROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

This declaration involves no expense either to strangers or 
to friends and relatives of the deceased. EUe est toute gratuite, 

Inspector Byde loitered behind with Brother l^eel. While 
they both paused, a gentleman in later middle life mounted 
the steps from the street and moved unconcernedly into the 
building. The new-comer was attired almost as scrupulously 
as an old beau, but there was something about liis physiognomy 
which might have been considered less typical of the old beau 
than of his coachman. He had a pear-shaped red face, with a 
short white whisker at each side. He gave you the impression 
at first sight of being uncomfortably hot; but you were soon 
led to the conclusion that the glow which overspread his coun- 
tenance would be more properly attributable to the generous 
vintage produced by the sun, soil, and science of Oporto. 
Quite a small nosegay of winter flowers adorned the button- 
hole of his stylish overcoat; and his new kid gloves were bright 
enough tp be reflected in his polished hat. Ho one would 
have imagined that his night^s rest had been interrupted; 
although we know that at six o^clock, A. m., he attended at 
the Gare du Hord to meet the mail from London. It was 
Grandpa. 

Brother Heel saw no faces he could recognize, that was clear. 
It was Inspector Byde who recognized one of the faces that he 
saw. 

The recognition, indeed, was mutual. Grandpa nodded to 
Inspector Byde with an air of pleased surprise, and the in- 
spector nodded back. Their salutations took place unper- 
ceived by the two colleagues in the service of the I. 0. T. A. 
Brothers Heel and Bamber had penetrated into the crowd, and 
Mr. “ Smithson immediately rejoined them. There was 
another person whom Grandpa recognized, bvt to whom, never- 
theless, he sent no salute — a figure posted near a recess, away 
from the mass of spectators, and devoting a good deal more 
attention to the latter themselves than to the object of their 
curiosity. It was the manly form of Mr. Toppin, who, sta- 
tioned like a sentinel, resolved to bid any man stand in the 
princess name,” no doubt fancied he was acquitting himself of 
his duty with no less discretion than zeal. Mr. “ Smithson ” 
possibly dreaded at that moment an untimely greeting from 
his vigilant subordinate. 

Edging their way through the rows of gossiping spectators, 
the three companions at length caught a glimpse of the ‘‘ En- 
glishman who was murdered.” A minute more and they were 
face to face with the corpse. The detective had watched his 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 93 

neighbor. Brother Is’eel, most narrowly, and by placing him- 
self a little in his rear, contrived to maintain his scrutiny mi- 
observed. Brother Neel betrayed the sensibility, transient but 
perfectly undissembled, which under the circumstances would 
be altogether natural. . The communicative jVIt. Remington 
lay before him. At not much more than arm^s length he saw, 
supported by the sloping couch, on the other side of the plate- 
glass window, his fellow-passenger of the previous night — the 
obliging narrator of the Wilmot case, the skeptic in young Mr. 
Sinclair's innocence — dead. The life-like appearance of the 
body might well have startled him, as it startled persons who 
had never until now set eyes on the deceased. Beyond, appar- 
ently, the shock of noting the few signs which had been de- 
scribed concisely by the inspector in his report that morning 
to Scotland Yard, Brother Neel evinced no species of emotion. 
A consumptive la^dy, borne down by ponderous gold ear-rings, 
remarked to her daughter on the dim expression of astonish- 
ment and alarm which the features still retained; would not 
anybody say that the deceased, as he reposed upon his couch, 
was about to open his lips and call for help? The daughter — 
a dark-eyed maid, with a woman^’s torso but an infantas face — 
read inquiry, also, she commented, in the blue and bloodshot 
eyes of the deceased. Sometimes the dead bodies at the 
morgue, continued mademoiselle, had a look of meditation, or 
an air of listening; this one seemed as though he were search- 
ing for some one in the crowd, or as if he meant to question 
them, if they would w'ait. 

“ Do you think that the assassin could come here and stand 
in front of this, unmoved?’^ asked the young lady, who ap- 
peared to interest herself in criminal exploits and physical 
decay. 

‘‘ I canT imagine how he could, rephed her mother. “ 1 
couldnT.^^ 

I dare say he might, though, all the same,^^ continued the 
daughter. “ It seems to me that if I had courage enough to 
commit a murder, I should not in the least mind seeing the 
body afterward. You know they are dead: what does it mat- 
ter?'^ 

Ah, but the guilty quail before their lifeless victims; that 
is well Imown,^^ responded the elder lady, glancing round for 
corroboration. 

“ Not necessarily, madame,^^ put in a neighbor, who forth- 
with enforced his view of the matter by citations from the 
popular records of criminal jurisprudence. 


94 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

A profitable discussion, truly sneered Brother Bamber 
to his colleague. 

“ Well, my dear friend, I agree rather with the elder lady,"" 
said Brother" Neel. “ I believe in the resonant and mighty 
voice of #truth. Were the assassin, now, of this unfortunate 
man at present here, gazing or about to gaze upon the victim 
of this impious deed, I think his conscience must betray him."" 
He, too; cast a glance around him as he concluded. It seemed 
as though he half-expected to encounter some such mute 
avowal of guilt. The regard which met his own was that of 
Inspector Byde. 

“ Do you identify the dead man?"" asked Mr. Smithson. 

No,"" replied Brother Neel. 

“You have no recollection of his face at all? I should fancy 
it would help on the authorities materially if some one could 
identify this person. You do not remember observing him 
among your fellow-passengers?"" 

“ I have no recollection of ever having seen that man."" 

“Then we need not remain here any longer,"" suggested 
Brother Bamber, less at ease in the crowd than in the offices 
of the I. 0. T. A. They turned to depart. The inspector 
told his two companions that he would join them presently out- 
side the morgue. He wished, no doubt, to exchange a word 
with the praiseworthy Mr. Toppin; and Grandpa was hovering 
persistently in his neighborhood, remarked Mr. Byde. 

But he had a different reason for remaining in his place a 
moment more. Two female figures, advancing through the 
crowd with difficulty, and- manifestly shrinking from the con- 
tact of this mixed assemblage, had caught his attention as they 
made their way toward the window. It was easy to distinguish 
them as English ladies. They were both veiled. The toilet 
of the elder, rich but in goc^ taste, had a decidedly Parisian 
stamp. The appearance of the younger lady, who was attired 
in a semi-traveling costume, was more characteristically En- 
glish. Mr. Byde noted that the younger of the two leaned 
upon her companion for support. As they approached the 
window he stationed himself behind them. 

“ I dare not look — I dare not — oh, I dare not!"" murmured 
the younger lady, in agitated accents. “ If it should be — "" 

“My dear child — come — come! There — I told you these 
fears were groundless. "" 

“ Heavens! — what can it mean?"" The young lady raised 
her veil, and, as the color came back to her cheeks, gazed with 
astonishment at the lineaments of the dead man. 

“ Why — do you recognize him?"" 


THE PASSENGER FROH SCOTLAND YARD. 95 

Yes — oh, yes! What can have happened? — oh — let us go 
from this horrible place 

Mr. Inspector Byde signaled to his colleague, Toppin. 


CHAPTER X. 

In the course of the evening Mr. Toppin presented himself 
at his colleague's hotel. He had been not a little astonished 
at the arrival of the inspector at the morgue in company with 
two clerically attired gentlemen, with whom he appeared to be 
on easy terms. To observe the inspector salute a third ac- 
quaintance, in the shape of an elderly party who looked hke a 
real old swell, rather “ horsy ^Hn his style, perhaps — a jockey 
club Croesus, no doubt: English race-horse owner established 
in France: too sohdly British, or not quite overdressy enough, 
to be a vecomte, or a marky, or a dook — had added to his 
astonishment. Anybody would have imagined that this B3’de 
was lounging about his own metropolis, which lay upon the 
other side of the Enghsh Channel! 

Detective Toppin was directed upstairs to a private sitting- 
room retained by the inspector. He found the latter seated in 
an arm-chair at the mahogany table, and busily engaged with 
inkstand, blotting-pad, pen, and writing-paper. 

Don-’t wind up your report until you have heard what I 
have done,"’^ said Toppin, in good spirits. 

“ All right, replied the other; “ I was waiting for you/^ 

Toppin approached the table, and perceived that what en- 
grossed the attention of his esteemed superior was something 
apparently quite different from a report to ‘‘ the Yard.^^ Mr. 
Byde had covered pages of his note-paper with propositions 
nine, ten, and eleven. He had bisected a given rectilineal 
angle; he had bisected a given finite straight line, and he had 
drawn a straight line at right angles to a given straight line 
from a given point in the same. He was just killing time, 
donT you see — he explained to his subordinate. 

“We shall have them to-morrow or the next day,^^ an- 
nounced Mr. Toppin, “ as safe as houses !^^ 

“ We shall have them to-morrow or the next day, shall we?'’^ 
answered the inspector, cheerily. “That's all right, then." 
He put down his pen, and, as he closed the small volume at 
his left hand, murmured, “ Wherefore two straight lines can 
not have a common segment. " 

“ To begin with, here is a fac-simile of the morsel of paper 
found on the fioor of the compartment." 

The inspector took the slip of paper proffered him, and read 


9(5 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


upon it, Adelaide, X. Y.,^^ with an address, ‘Ho be left till 
called for,"" at a post-office in Knightsbridge. “ Did you wire 
to the Yard?"" be asked. 

“ I wired at once to have the post-office watched. Parties 
applying for anything addressed to ‘ Adelaide, X. Y.," were to 
be followed."" 

“Yes?"" 

“ And — in case they should overlook it — ^that a hint to the 
postmaster might be advisable. For all we know, a letter 
might never be claimed, and yet might disappear. For all we 
know, a post-office clerk may be in this."" 

“Good."" 

“ I"d lay ten to one it"s a confederate in the original robbery 
— a man!"" 

“ I should not be surprised if it"s a woman,"" remarked the 
inspector. 

“ Well, whatever they may think proper to do at the Yard, 
I know what I should do. I"d have application made, by a 
plain-clothes man, for anything to that address; and I"d have 
it opened, whatever it was!"" 

“ Opened?"" 

“ That is what would he done here, as a matter of course. "" 

“ I have a good mind to return to-morrow,"" observed the 
inspector, jocosely. “ What could be clearer than the case, as 
it now stands, at this end? The two suspicious characters 
who traveled by the same train as the deceased, who hastened 
away immediately the train arrived at its destination, and who 
obviously applied themselves to elude pursuit, are safe to he 
pounced on by the French police to-morrow or the next day, 
wherever they may be hiding. It"s not much use for me to stay 
here. You can act with the French authorities and get credit 
for the capture at the Yard — which you deserve, friend Top- 
pin. "" 

“Oh, hut"" — exclaimed Toppin, eagerly, “this is your 
case!"" 

“ If you can finish it ofi, it shall be yours."" 

“ Mr. Byde, sir, it"s a real privilege to work with a colleague 
like yourself. If others at the Yard that I could name would 
only show the same consideration for the younger men, and 
those who"ve never had their chance, things would go on much 
better, sir, all round. We should all work together, sir, more 
harmoniously, and the public interests would greatly benefit, 
and the Yard would find that it possessed the confidence of the 
entire community in a fuller degree. Young and talented 
members of the force would see that their abilities were to be 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


97 


allowed free play, instead of feeling that their best efforts only 
profited their superiors. I am a young member of the force 
myself, sir, and I think I may say, without any boasting, that 
with the opportunity I could prove that I am not one of the 
least able. I feel confident of my capacity to conduct the pres- 
ent case to a speedy and satisfactory termination, and should I 
be so fortunate as to receive your commendation, I know that 
it would carry great weight with the department. Mr. Byde, 
sir, I am deeply sensible of your kindness. 

“ All right, Toppin; all right. But is it so sure that we 
shall have these men to-morrow or the next day?^^ 

“ How can they get clear, with myself and the French 
police after them? Wherever they go in this country they are 
conspicuous as foreigners. If they leave Paris for the provinces 
they can be traced with comparative facility, and can be 
stopped by telegraph. Their only chance is to keep inside 
Paris. Now what means of concealment are available to them 
inside Paris? They are hidden in the residence of an accomplice, 
we will say. Then every morning and every evening the news- 
papers render it more and more hazardous for the accomplice 
himself to keep any parties of the nationality specified in the 
public press hidden away upon his premises, or in any manner 
apparently avoiding observation. As a party to the crime, 
he will very soon have had enough of it, and will either hand 
them over, to get out of it, or leave them to themselves. The 
concierge, the servants, or the neighbors — there is always some 
one here to start the gossip — notice that the new arrivals do 
not leave the house, or leave it, weTl say, only in the even- 
ing. They wonder why, and even if no crime has been pub- 
licly announced, they are more likely than not to regard these 
new arrivals with suspicion. If, on the other hand, these 

f )arties should decide to go in and out of the house quite free- 
y, in order to save appearances, they are continually running 
the risk of identification 1^ some person or persons who 
traveled with them between London and Paris. Suppose they 
disguise themselves: they are still foreigners, not natives of 
the country; and they might be followed— — on ‘ spec,^ at 
any minute. Anybody may be in the pay of the police here — 
the cabman, the vender of a newspaper, the postman, the 
concierge — who knows? They are not all stupid; and they 
are all officious and inquisitive. Suppose, however, that they 
put up, like ordinary visitors, at an hotel — a small private 
establishment, or one of the largest and most fashionable. 
Suppose that no suspicions arise in the hotel itself with regard 
to the coincidence of their arrival and the date of the crime. 


98 


THE PASSENGER PROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


Every hotel, lodging-house, and boarding-house, having to 
furnish a police return of the persons arriving at their premises 
for even a single night, the returns do usually afford the police 
some sort of indication. The kind of handwriting, whether 
disguised or not — the kind of names chosen by parties who en- 
ter themselves falsely — the peo])le at the Caserne de la Cite 
(our Scotland Yard, you may say) can of course turn all these 
things to account, especially in a case like this, with me to 
help them. But, there! — I am telling you what you know 
already. And you are not the man, Mr. Inspector, whom 
your own false entry on your own hotel-sheet would have 
misled, if you had been looking for yourself 

“Well done, said Mr. Toppings colleague, with a smile. 
“ When do the returns for the day get into the hands of the 
police?'’’ 

“ The next morning, as a rule. I have been to the Caserne 
de la Cite, and by to-morrow all the hotel returns ought to 
have been examined and the questionable cases noted. The 
premises queried can be visited at the first convenient moment. 
Eow, as strangers here, these two men are most likely together 
in some out-of-the-way hotel, under assumed names, and with 
false addresses. I should expect them to have described them- 
selves as Americans. They tell me at the Caserne de la Cite 
that the bullet which caused the death has not yet come into 
their possession; but if a revolver or a pistol should be dis- 
covered at the premises tenanted by the two men, it will of 
course be sometliing, even though the bullet should never be 
found. ” 

“ And now — with regard to the two ladies I indicated to 
you, at the morgue?” 

“ With regard to the two ladies,,” continued Mr. Toppin, 
“ this is what I have ascertained. The elder is a Mrs. Ber- 
tram, who resides in the Avenue Marceau; the other is a Miss 
Knollys. On quitting the morgue they walked along the Quai 
de B Arche veche, until they came to a cab which seemed to be 
in waiting for them. They stepped into the vehicle and gave a 
direction to the driver. I took another cab and followed them. 
The driver pulled up at a telegraph office, and both ladies 
alighted. I went into the office a moment after them, and saw 
that they were filling up a telegraph form. The younger lady 
was writing the message, but was consulting the other about 
every word of it, I should say. I went to the same desk for a 
telegraph form and a pen, and was able to glance at their 
message. I had no time to read the contents nor to secure 
the precise address, but the place to which it was to be dis- 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 99 

patched was London, and the name of the person to whom 
it was being sent was — Sinclair. 

‘‘ Sinclair!’^ 

‘‘ Yes.'’^ The inspector gathered up his diagrams and put 
them on one side, under the small volume of the “ Elements.'’^ 
His colleague added, after a pause — “ Yes, I was astonished 
myself 

“ Some one who expected him by the night mail, has not 
heard of his arrest, has been alarmed by the story of an En- 
glishman found murdered, on the arrival of the train here, and 
has attended at the morgue, in the fear that the dead man 
might he Sinclair, summed up Inspector Byde. ‘‘ Some one 
who knew the deceased also, but did not expect him. What 
have you learned about this Miss Knollys?'^ 

She is a visitor, staying with Mrs. Bertram. She arrived 
quite recently from England. Mrs. Bertram is a widow, the 
concierge told me. She livdfe in good style, and from what I 
can make out, possesses a considerable fortune. While they 
remained in the telegraph office. Miss Knollys appeared ex- 
tremely agitated; the other seemed to be consoling her, but 
did not show any emotion herself. From the office they drove 
to the Avenue Marceau, and it was then that I gleaned the 
particulars I have related to you. 

‘‘ Would it be possible, through the concierge, to see all the 
post-marks of the correspondence this young lady receives?^'’ 

“ Possible Toppin drew his hands out of hi^ pockets and 
spun a twenty-franc gold piece upon the table. “We can 
even procure a little delay in the delivery — and something 
more, still. It depends upon how many of these we can set 
spinning at the same time!^'’ 

“ Well, then, see to that. Before my arrival at the morgue, 
did you notice any one else of English nationality?^^ 

“ A cartful of tourists came, led by a guide. There was 
nothing about the behavior of any of them that attracted my 
attention. You arrived soon afterward, with the two clerical- 
looking gentlemen. Toppin evidently wished for a hint on 
the subject of Inspector Byde^s companions. The inspector 
did not gratify his wish, however. A minute later a knock 
was heard at the door. In answer to the inspector's demand, 
the handle was turned, and the door was discreetly opened. 

“ An inopportune moment, perhaps ?"' inquired a voice, 
apologetically. 

Toppin twisted his chair round and faced the visitor, as the 
latter politely comprehended him in his salute. It was the 
elderly party who had nodded to his colleague at the morgue 


100 THE PASSEHGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

— the real old swell, a little horsy in the cut of his figure- 

head/^ thought Toppin. 

Not at all, not at all!^^ responded their host, rising. ‘‘We 
are old acquaintances,^^ he explained to his subordinate. 
“ Haven^t met for years. Came across each other by chance 
this afternoon, and just had time to ask my old friend to step 
up and see me."’"’ 

Toppin listened with a deferential bearing. 

“ But if I disturb you — pursued the new-comer. 

“ By no means exclaimed the inspector; “ on the contrary 
— we were just talking over my return to London. If you had 
deferred your visit we might have lost the opportunity of dis- 
cussing those private matters in which we are both interested. 
Besides, I suggested this evening, if you remember. And so 
the family are in good health? Yes, yes — quite so — the family 
are in good health — 

Toppin understood that he was not wanted. All the better 
if his chief had other occupations while he stayed. It would 
leave his own hands for a larger share of the work on which 
they were engaged together. He made an appointment for the 
following day, and took his leave. 

“ AVell, Byers, said the inspector, as soon as he found him- 
self alone with the elderly party whom Toppin had connected 
with wealth and fashion. “You and I know each other, of 
course, but I did not suppose that you and my friend might 
be acquainted?^^ 

“ Never had the pleasure of meeting the gentleman, re- 
plied Mr. Byers, seated in the chair which Toppin had just 
vacated. He held his polished hat in his left hand, and with 
the other was gently balancing a slender silk umbrella that 
seemed hardly heavier than a lady^s fan. 

“ A young friend of mine, and a fellow after your own heart; 
but there^s no reason why we should tell him our little 
secrets. 

“ That’s like you, Mr. Byde — always considerate for others; 
always considerate, when it doesnT interfere with your duty. 
Not that I have any secrets to tell, but I can always listen to 
the secrets of other people, without going to sleep — and keep 
them. 

“ Or sell them, hey, Benny? Ha! ha! ha!^^ 

“ Ah, no! Those days are gone."’"’ 

“Now — what shall I order ?^’ The inspector prepared to 
ring. 

“ Oh, nothing for me! — nothing whatever, I pray/^ 

“ Renounced it?^^ 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


101 


‘‘ Not altogether; but I^’m thinking of doing so. The evils 
resulting from the consumption of intoxicating beverages are 
patent to the merest observer. Alcohol is the scourge of 
modern society, and it behooves us all to set the right example. 
There is an excellent society here which I shall doubtless join 
one of these days for the sake of its laudable purposes — an 
English movement — the International Organization of Total 
Abstainers. You must be aware of its existence, by the way. 
If I mistake not, one of your companions this afternoon was 
the active and single-hearted president of the Paris branch. 
Brother Bamber?^’’ 

“ Ah! you know friend Bamber?^^ 

“ In the very shghtest way.^^ 

Charming fellow, is he not?^^ 

“ A worthy, dear, good man. And so your young friend 
who was here just now has run over with you for a day or 
two?^^ 

‘‘ Oh, dear, no!^'’ said Mr. Byde. “ He^s established here in 
business. 

‘‘ Like myself, then!^^ 

More or less, I dare say. What may be your line of busi- 
ness, Benjamin 

Insurance — yes, old friend, the insurance business; and 
pleased you will be to hear, I think, that I am prospering ex- 
ceedingly. I have my office in the Eue des Petits Champs — 
quite a business quarter — and none but the most respectable 
firms are among my clients. ” 

“ Some of my colleagues would be interested to hear that, 
Benjamin — though they wonT hear it from me. We thought 
you went out to Australia; and I dare say that by this time 
some of them at the Yard think you are dead. Personally, I 
fancied that New York was more like it; and I never expected 
to tumble across my old chum Byers — Ben Byers — in the 
morgue at Paris. 

“You all used to love me at the Yard, didnT you?^^ 

“ We admired your talents, Benjamin. You have given us 
more trouble at the Yard, I should say, than any other single 
individual of your time. And all for nothing! It’s past and 
gone now, and we can talk it over without feeling. We never 
got well hold of you, but I can tell you that we meant having 
you some day or other. ” 

“/ knew you meant having me,” said Mr. Byers, .com- 
placently. “ But there was only one man of the whole lot 
clever enough to put me away, and that was Byde.” 

“ Come, that won’t do to-day, Byers,” protested the other. 


102 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

with a laugh. ‘‘ What a character he is, my old chum, Ben- 
jamin! There^s not the smallest need for it, but habitus too 
strong for him! Can't help soft-soaping you, although there's 
nothing to be got by it. Pearson was a better man than I, 
and so was Baird. And there are still Fullerton and Pilch 
who know more than I do at the game." 

‘‘Fullerton! The man who muffled that forgery case! I 
read about it in the newspapers. And as for Pilch, I remem- 
ber him well enough at the Yard. There's nobody can teach 
Pilch his business in any department of it, that I will say; but 
he's not in it with you, Byde — and for this, reason: Pilch is 
an obstinate man. Now, in your line of business, obstinacy 
doesn't do. If Pilch takes up an idea, he wants to bring 
everything round to it; and that affects his judgment. He 
wants to pick and choose his facts to suit himself if he once 
takes up an idea, whereas yom' mode of going to work is never 
shaped by any preconceived idea, obstinately adhered to. I 
know that, the way you persecuted me in days gone by! No, 
no; I don't say it to flatter you — what motive could I have for 
flattering you? — but you are the man I fancy, Mr. Byde; that 
is to say, the man I should not like, if / were a criminal, to have 
upon my track. You have no prejudices. " 

“Yes, I have," returned Mr. Byde, slowly; “I have a 
prejudice, and I know it. I have a prejudice which got me 
into trouble once, and will again some day, i£ I don't look 
out." 

“ Ah, that temperance case," responded the visitor, after a 
pause. “ AVell, as I said, I am not here to flatter you; and 
certainly you came down over that!" His tone enlianced the 
bluntness, real or assumed, of his words; and he added: “You 
don't seem to bear the brethren any malice, though?" 

“ How? What do you mean?" 

“ Beware of Brother Bamber!" Mr. Byers said thi& jocular- 
ly. “ He is a great hand at conversions. " 

“ If they convert yotc, Benjamin, they ought to show you 
on their platforms, like their converted members of Parliament 
and chimney-sweeps." 

“ I made the acquaintance of your other companion this 
afternoon — the lecturer from London, Brother Neel. You 
had been gone some time when I called at the Boulevard 
Haussmann. It was about insurance business that I had 
placed myself in communication with Brother Bamber, and I 
resolved to look in this afternoon for a personal introduction. 
He presented me to his esteemed colleague — a man of great 
eloquence, it seems, and zeal." 


THE PASSEKGER FROJr SCOTLAND YARD. 103 

“You did not refer to me as connected with the Yard, I 
hope?^^ demanded the inspector, seriously. 

“Well, hardly, said Mr. Byers, with a bland smile; “I 
supposed you were on business, and I refrained from mention- 
ing you at all, though T should scarcely imagine that you are 
likely to disturb our dear friends of the I. 0. T. A. And yet 
if you could wipe that case out, as an old chum of yours and 
a warm admirer, Byde, / should be glad for one. I believe in 
the temperance cause, whether I practice it myself or not; 
but there are black sheep in every flock, and let them be 
punished, I say, wherever they may be found. Mr. Byers 
paused and cast a sharp glance at the inspector. As the lat- 
ter offered no response, he continued: “ So far, however, as 
these two gentlemen are concerned, I should be the last to 
suggest that they are anything but ornaments to the cause they 
serve. It is true that I know nothing of the lecturer who has 
just arrived from head-quarters in London; but the Paris agent 
of the I. 0. T. A. is a man of the loftiest probity, from all I 
hear. I shall very likely be intrusted with Brother Bamber^s 
insurances, his own life and perhaps that of Mrs. Bamber, in 
one company, and the property of the I. 0. T. A. in another. 
With regard to Brother Neel, after all, I am not qualified to 
speak. By the bye, it appears that Neel came over in last 
night^s mail from London — the train in which this murder 
was committed. I suppose you know that, however? He does 
not recognize the victim, he says. Bather curious that, isn^'t 
it? The papers say there were not many passengers by the 
train. And yet, of course, you canT be expected to notice 
every passenger who travels by the train you may happen to 
come %, although there may be few of them. Still, in anybody 
with a black mark against him in the police records of either 
London or Paris, oversight of that sort would be looked at 
twice. Yes, there’s the world! Just the difference between 
a fustian jacket, or a bit of Scotch tweed, and a shiny black 
coat with a sham clerical cut to it and a starched white cravat 
at the top of a. high waistcoat. ” 

“ I know he traveled by the mail last night,” said Mr. 
«B 3 ^de; “ they told me so. But I don’t suppose he noticed any- 
body from the time he left London to the moment he arrived 
here. These trading teetotal spouters are always thinking 
over their platform effects. I dare say he passes the w^hole of 
his time tampering with statistics, or inventing ‘ fatal instances 
of alcoholic excess which, my dear friends, have fallen within 
my own personal observation. ’ ” 

Mr. Byers laughed, and laughter suited him< His clear eyes 


104 THE PASSEISTGER FROM SCOTLAKO YARD. 

twinkled merrily, Ms florid visage deepened in its glow; and 
at the temples and the corners of the mouth the lines lay so 
disposed as to lure into responsive mirth the least sympathetic 
of spectators, whether frigid or stupid, or merely artificially 
reserved. Even the passenger from Scotland Yard, who knew 
the laugh of old, yielded to it. 

‘‘ Like old times,'" sighed Mr. Byers, presently, “ to see you 
sitting there, and hear your talk like that. Ah, those old 
times! None of you would let me rest. And yet you could 
never show any ground for your suspicions ! Ha! ha! ha! ha!" 

No, we could never prove anything," replied the inspector. 
‘‘ You were always too sharp for us, Benjamin." 

‘‘ I was always unjustly accused, you mean!" 

‘‘ Ah, yes, that was it! I remember now, ‘ Innocent Ben," 
we used to call you at the Yard: ‘ Old Ben Byers, the receiver 
— Innocent Ben." It looked bad for you, though, in that 
fraudulent pretenses case; and now I think of it, that must 
have been your last appearance in public over there?" 

“ Quite right; that was the last. And an abominable mis- 
carriage of justice that case threatened to be!" said Mr. Byers, 
in a complaining tone. “ I was as nearly falling a victim to 
appearances, in that case, as ever an innocent man was in this 
world. My counsel brought me off, but a pretty sum it cost 
me ! I thought it best to leave the country after that. The 
Yard was too eager. You would have driven me into a con- 
viction or a lunatic asylum if I had stayed. No, I got out of 
it. I took my little savings to America, and as there's no 
chance for an honest man in the United States, came over 
here at the first opportunity and set up. But it was hard to be 
persecuted in one's native country, and to be driven abroad!" 

“ Never mind, Benjamin," returned Mr. Byde, good-hu- 
moredly. “ That's all over now, and you've had a fresh start 
— and it seems to agree with you. Of course you have too 
much sense to mix up with compromising people for the fut- 
ure. What led you to the morgue this afternoon?" 

“ What led me to the morgue? I'm sure I don't know: 
curiosity, I suppose. What led other people to the morgue? 
I read of this mysterious occurrence in a special edition of a 
morning paper, and, as I happened to be passing, just looked 
in. Did any one ever meet with persons like these gentlemen 
from Scotland Yard! What led me to the morgue! Come, 
now, Mr. Byde, that's very unkind of you — it is, indeed!" 

“ Well, don't be angry! I'm bound to ask questions, you 
know." 

What led me to the morgue? Now, I am really very 


THE PASSENGER PROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


105 


much hurt, Mr. Byde — I am indeed — yery much hurt, by the 
way you put that question. It^s most unkind. What led 
your I. 0. T. A. friends to the morgue?*’ 

‘‘ i led them there.” 

That may be satisfactory enough,” retorted the visitor, 
profoundly wounded by the abrupt demand. “ But, at any 
rate, I was not a passenger by the night mail!” 

Grandpa blew his nose with vehemence, and was visibly 
affected. His host endeavored to appease him, and Grandpa 
at length recovered his cheerfulness. He no longer spoke, 
however, in the sanctimonious tone which had been noticeable 
at the outset of their interview. 

“As to that murder,” said he, “I rather wonder what the 
motive could have been."” 

“Find out the motive,” replied the inspector, “and you 
find out the man. 

“ Is that your maxim?” 

“ One of them.” 

“ And you rely upon it?” 

“ Hot I! The man in my business who relies upon maxims 
will either go wrong or make no progress at all. My maxims 
are as good as the rest of them — that is to say, useless truisms, 
or only half true. ‘ Gherchez la femme they say here. That 
may do in France, but it won’t hold water in an Anglo-Saxon 
community. And I should think that here, too, the criminal 
must often be delighted to see the police hunting desperately 
for some feminine intrigue as the commencement of their clew. 
What are all these maxims worth? ‘ If there were no re- 
ceivers, there would be no thieves,’ says a prisoner to me the 
other day in the cell. ‘ If there were no thieves,’ I told him, 
‘ there would be no receivers.’ ” 

“ Good!” commented Grandpa. 

Inspector Byde hauled his two pipe-cases out of his pocket, 
and began, as was his custom, to weigh inwardly, their respect- 
ive claims. 

“ I must be going,” said Grandpa; “ on my way home I 
have a call to make.” The inspector stirred the fire and 
pulled at the bell-rope. “ But now that I know where to find 
you,” continued his guest, rising, “I shall call in passing 
and take my chance. You don’t go back yet, of course?” 

“ Can’t say.” 

“ Well, to-morrow, if you are in the neighborhood of the 
Kue des Petits Champs— here’s my card-*-ah! by the way, the 
name is Bingham, as you see, not Byers. Byers is defunct. 
Obliged to do it, sir! ferd lines, but obliged to do it. Driven 


106 THE PASSENGER EKOM SCOTLAND YARD. 

out of your native country, and forced to take up another 
name! Cruel, sir, cruel! Ah! the law can make terrible mis- 
takes. ” 

“ When were you last in England?''^ 

“ Long, long ago. Ah, dear old England! ‘ With all her 
faults," you know, etc. Well, well! Occasionally I receive a 
visitor from the old country — business, pure business — hi- 
surance agency, and that sort of thing, you know!"" 

‘‘ Keep clear of compromising characters, Benjamin."" 

‘‘ Oh, my dear Mr. Byde — come, come! — I suppose further 
details of that murder case will be out by this time. Strange 
thing that man Keel never noticed his fellow-passenger. Ten 
hours' journey — two changes — long stoppage at Calais — 
travelers not numerous: strange thing!"" 

When the door had closed behind his visitor, and the waiter 
had brought up his tumbler of hot grog, the inspector resumed 
his survey of the two pipes, and eventually decided for the 
“ considering-cap. "" He reopened the blotting-pad, and 
selected a sheet of note-paper on which no diagrams had been 
traced. Then, each sentence punctuated vdth h puff of smoke, 
and with the sphinx looking down serenely on his labors, he 
indited by easy stages the subjoined paragraphs: 

“ If A (Byers) is known to B (from Scotland Yard) as con- 
firmed suspicious character, is not B justified in regarding C 
(Bamber) and D (Keel), acquaintances or possible associates 
of A, as hypothetically suspicious characters? 

‘‘ But if A were involved in any illicit transactions with C, 
would he not carefully avoid all mention to B of his acquaint- 
ance with 0, especially under the peculiar circumstances of 
B"s former relations with A? 

‘‘ If A, conversing with B, repeatedly introduces the name 
of H, in direct connection with a certain mysterious affair, is 
not B justified in suspecting A of a desire to compromise D in 
the judgment of B? 

“ Kow, if A wishes B to suspect D, might it not be in order 
to divert the attention of B from A himself, or from A"s asso- 
ciate E (unknown)? 

‘‘ A has, therefore, presumably, no illicit transactions with 
D. And A either suspects D in connection with a mysterious 
affair, or, having himself (A) or E to shield, wishes D to be 
suspected by B. Whence: 

“ To watch both A and I), and to find E."" 

« 

To find E, the unknown person or persons. Persons? The 
very men who came from London by the night mailj he would 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


107 


lay his life upon it! And Toppin had missed them! Welh 
they would now see what the value of it might prove — this 
famous registration system of the Paris police. Toppin had 
declared that they would have these men in a couple of days. 
But suppose A, through E, we would say, had certain special 
reasons, bond fide, for suspecting D? Phew! what a stroke of 
luck ! The inspector put his pipe down with a look of grati- 
tude at the sphinx. The good ideas he owed to that pipe! — 
it was amazing! 

At that moment, A and D were chatting together quite 
pleasantly in the Hotel des Nations, Eue de Compiegne. The 
temperance question, from the actuarial point of view, 
formed the subject of their colloquy. Mr. Bingham, ne 
Byers, had called upon the lecturer of the I. 0. T. A. , Brother 
Neel, as he had offered to do in the afternoon; and in No. 21, 
the comfortable chamber tenanted by Brother Neel, the “ con- 
firmed suspicious character was expatiating on the superior- 
ity of “ teetotal lives. He congratulated Brother Neel upon 
his excellent quarters — not too high up, and wonderfully tran- 
quil for the vicinity of the station. Mr. Bingham walked 
round the spacious room with the experienced air of the Paris 
resident. No noisy neighbors, he hoped? Ah, true; the room 
was at the extremity of the corridor — that he had perceived on 
his arrival. The party-wall of the building would, of course, 
lie on that side, quite so; and from that direction consequently 
there could be no disturbance. Still, a veiy little might dis- 
turb us sometimes when we were engaged on difficult work, 
actuarial calculations, for instance, or the details of the I. 0. 
T. A. The neighbor on the other side might, perhaps — what, 
no neighbor? Unoccupied for the present — the bedroom ad- 
joining? Most fortunate for Brother Neel, if he had work to 
do; so much the better in the interests of his tranquillity. 
Would look in to-morrow on the matter of the proposed policy. 
Good-night! And so No. 19 was untenanted! 


CHAPTER XL 

Mr. Bingham did look in on the following morning, but at 
a strangely unseasonable hour. No one was stirring when he 
presented himself next day but the earliest of the hotel serv- 
ants. He had brought with him an invalid friend who had 
traveled all night from the south of France, he remarked to 
the porter — an Alsatian peasant, who had a surly and half-im- 
becile air. The apartment for his companion was already 
taken; he had engaged it himself on the previous night. The 


108 THE PASSENGER PROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

room was No. 19, on the second-floor, almost at the extremity 
of the corridor. 

His invalid friend had- been a great sufferer, added Mr. Bing- 
ham, when they had assisted the new-comer to an arm-chair in 
the hall. Urgent business was recalling him to England, but 
the state of his health required that he should break the Jour- 
ney for a day or two, and for a day or two, therefore, he 
should remain in Paris. Was the room No. 19 ready for its 
occupant? Everything quite in order? Capital. Then we 
would have the fire lighted at once, and we would support No. 
19 upstairs to his apartment. Oh, he had grown stronger on 
the breezes of the Mediterranean, but there was still much to 
be desired. Just now, the fatigues of a long Journey and 
sleeplessness were telhng upon him; but with repose and quiet 
he would soon recuperate. An undermining sort of malady, 
though. What malady? Well, something costitutional — de- 
bilitated frame — took after his parents. Mr. Bingham had 
known his young friend^s father well, and it was exactly the 
same kind of physique — ainsi, voyez ! Oh, but he was not 
always prostrated like this. The vigor he would exhibit some- 
times would even astonish his medical advisers — and they were 
of the best. Repose he needed, and tranquillity — tranquillity 
and Judicious nursing. Luckily, he could pay well. The in- 
valid understood little of these explanations, it seemed. He 
lay back languidly, enveloped in his rugs, and hardly for a 
single moment unclosed his eyes. 

“ How pale he looks, the poor young gentleman; and how 
drawn his features are!^^ 

‘‘ Ah, you may well say so — yes, indeed acquiesced Mr. 
Bingham, who had seen to that matter before he started with 
his young friend for the Hotel des Nations, and who stood for 
a minute or two critically studying his own handiwork. 

The early servants were beginning to sweep the corridors, 
as the new arrivals passed along. On the second-floor, a citi- 
zen of the Republic, who had unmistakably the scowl of him 
who nourishes in secret dreams of an anarchical Utopia, was 
collecting, with a moody resignation, pairs of boots thrown 
outside the bedroom doors. He treated the boots less roughly 
than, perhaps., could he have had his way, he would have treat- 
ed their unconscious owners. And yet, as they proceeded 
slowly down the corridor toward No. 19, the visitors observed 
him kick one or two pairs savagely, as though their elegance 
offended him. He spat, indeed, on some: they had blue silk 
linings, high heels, and innumerable buttons; and, as the 
visitors moved by, he turned and stared insolently at them 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD, 


109 


with undisguised contempt and hatred. The spectacle of the 
invalid brought to his face a sneer of gratification and of the 
bitterest malignity. 

“ A subscriber to the ‘ Lanterne asked Mr. Bingham. 

‘‘ Oh, worse than that!’^ replied their conductor, smilingly, 
and still turning over in his pocket the piece of gold given him 
by this affable old gentleman. ‘‘ Gregoire is our black-fiag 
politician. If you could hear him talk down^stairs, in the 
kitchen, about the next rising of the people! I^m advanced 
myself; I want the Commune, but I donT go so far as Gregoire, 
in the means. HeM begin by a massacre of all the persons 
staying in the hotel — all except the foreigners, that is; and 
then all the servants who refused to join his revolutionary 
group should be marched into the street, in front there, and 
shot. He wants to see all the well-to-do classes exterminated, 
and then to have everybody do every description of work by 
turns. All that I fear, monsieur, is one thing: that Gregoire 
may some day lose his patience and change his doctrine. And 
that is why I have ventured to trouble monsieur with such long 
details after monsieur^s generosity, and monsieur being a 
foreigner — indeed, an English, who are not cruel to the work- 
ing-man. Gregoire might be driven one day by his hatred to 
put his theory into execution; justifying theft, as we call it, 
Gregoire might one day commit theft. And that — ah, but 
that would change our sentiments toward our confrere ! J ust 
imagine, for one minute, how we should all be compromised! 
I say nothing against advanced views — monsieiu’ is perhaps 
conservative in his own country? No? — but I donT see that 
all the rest of us should possibly incur suspicion because we 
have a confrere whose political school denies the rights of prop- 
erty. No, monsieur! I have a young nephew who would like 
to take his place, and who seeks to enter a good establishment. 
Anything, therefore, that monsieur might miss from hi^^ room 
should be mentioned. Monsieur will pardon me and this is 
in confidence. But of course in these observations I study 
alone the interests of monsieur and of the establishment."’^ 

Left to themselves at last, in No. 19, Mr. Bingham and his 
invalid companion ahke underwent a marked alteration of de- 
meanor. The invalid pitched his hat across the room, stretched 
his arms, and gaped. His elderly friend drew his chair up to 
the recently lighted fire. 

‘‘ AVhat was he talking about all that time. Grandpa?^'’ in- 
quired the invalid. 

Oh, it’s too long to repeat. But there’s something in it 


110 THE PASSEKGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

that might turn out useful. ^ ^ Mr. Bingham hummed a little 
tune and stared into the fire-place. 

“ Lucky we had that snack before we started. Grandpa. But 
I shall soon be hungry again — and I’m thirsty, now, I give 
you the tip. Ain’t you?” 

“ Now, Bat, you just listen to me,” said the other, without 
paying any attention to this hint. “ I’m paying most of the 
expenses of this little affair, and I expect you to do the best 
you can for me. You’ve got to do your best to-day. It’s 
for your own good as well as mine.” 

All right. Grandpa; don’t you be uneasy. If it’s in my . 
line I’ll do it. Is it here I’m to go to work?” 

“ On one of those two doors; and in the meantime you must 
not be heard. On the other side of one of these doors you’re 
going to find the Wilmot diamonds. ” 

What—?” 

‘‘ Just so! I brought you away this morning for no other 
reason.” 

Grandpa, old Clements ain’t in it with you! — no, nor Byde 
from Scotland Yard. And as for me and Sir John — well, 
there! Bar accidents, and I shall do it, if it’s to be done at 
all. But if I’m to go to work in here with any confidence I 
must know that you’re outside on duty!” The speaker had 
adopted now as low a tone as his companion. He threw open 
his roomy ulster and unwound his woolen scarf; and the 
weazen face and slight proportions were those of Finch, alias 
"Walker. He locked the door by which they had entered. 

Some time elapsed before they heard their neighbors move 
in either of the rooms adjoining. The chamber they were oc- 
cupying belonged properly to a complete suite; but, as often 
happens in the Paris hotels, the several apartments had been 
let off singly; inter-communication being arrested by the 
locked-doors, which are usually hidden by tapestry, curtains, 
or a massive wardrobe. The suite can be restored at will, 
either wholly or in part. A convenient device for the hotel- 
keeper, the system proves less agreeable for his tenants. One 
is often an involuntary auditor; one is often unwittingly over- 
heard. Eavesdroppers are well housed in these hotels. 

“ Which is it?” murmured Mr. Finch, indicating the op- 
posite doors, to the right and to the left of the windows. 

' His companion nodded in the direction of a mahogany toilet- 
table, to the right. It had been placed against the door com- 
municating with No. 21, which was the spacious chamber at 
the end of the corridor, to the left hand, allotted to Brother 
Neel. 


THE PASSENGEK FKOM SCOTLAND YARD. HI 

‘‘ Key ill the lock on the other side?’^ demanded Mr. Finch. 
His companion rose and moved silently toward the toilet-table. 
A curtain nailed above the door and descending to the ground 
concealed the lock from their view, and in the dull light of the 
morning Mr. Bingham, as he held the curtain away, could not 
satisfy himself on the point. “Strike a match, whispered 
Mr. Finch. Grandpa shook his head; their neighbor might be 
awake at this moment and might hear them. It was just as 
well that Brother Neel should still suppose the adjoining room 
unoccupied. “ Hear!^'’ muttered Mr. Finch; “ he wonH hear 
this, I"ll lay a thousand! ^ 

In another instant he held a small flame in the hollow of his 
hand. Noiseless matches formed part of Mr. Finch's stock- 
in-trade. 

“ Door locked, and the key not on the other side," whis- 
pered Finch, alias Walker, after an extremely knowing ex- 
amination. He helped to move the toilet-table slightly, pro- 
duced a second little flame, and passed it up and down the 
edge of the door. “ No lower bolt on the other side," he 
pronounced; “ and let's hope there's no higher one. Door 
opens this way. " 

They replaced the piece of furniture against the curtain. 
Presently a stir in the far room announced the awakening of, 
at any rate, one of their two neighbors. He appeared to be a 
French gentleman with a retentive memory for the refrains* of 
Paris concert halls. “ Tlierese, Theresa” — he threw off en- 
couragingly^! intervals, as he clattered about his apartment — 
“ Mets-toi done a ton aise /" — adding the exhortation, now 
and then: 

“ Ne fais pas de fagons! — 

C’est bientot Char-en-ton !” 

“ What does he say?" murmured Mr. Finch, suspiciously. 
Mr. Bingham was too intent upon the enterprise before them 
to respond. The Gaul in the next room varied his references 
to Charenton and his counsels to Ther^se by a verse or two 
from sentimental ditties, which he intoned in a vibrating 
falsetto, and for which he would occasionally “ encore " him- 
self with great enthusiasm. “ He wouldn't sing like that if I 
had him on the Dials," growled Mr. Finch. “ Tu as jiromis 
un baiser ce soir !” quavered the vocalist, imitating the ap- 
plause of the gallery immediately afterward, and vociferating, 
“ Bis !” They heard a crash of broken glass, and the vocal- 
ist subsided into a species of prose which brought a fleeting 
smile to Grandpa's countenance. “ Put his elbow through the 
looking-glass, I dare say," commented Mr. Finch. 


112 THE PASSENGER PROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

The voice of some person apparently declaiming met their 
ears, however, from the opposite direction. The two occu- 
pants of No. 19 exchanged glances. They had nothing to do 
but wait in patience. 

Yes, it was the eloquent lecturer of the I. 0. T. A. exercis- 
ing in his platform style. He kept his voice at a subdued 
pitch, but most of its rehearsed modulations they could follow 
with ease. Now he assailed with impetuous ire the demon 
tempter lurking in every nook, beneath myriad disguises. 
The alluring shape and the deceptive blush — Alcohol! The 
honeyed accents of the faithless lover — xllcohol! Betrayals of 
the husband^s trust — desertions of the faultless wife — unnat- 
ural neglect by parents, barbarous abandonment by ungrateful 
offspring — fraud, insolvency, ruin — Alcohol! — ‘‘yes, my 
friends; in every physical and social ill, in all deformities of 
mind and body, in sickness and in woe, under the mask of 
pleasure and in every lineament of vice — we can detect and 
stamp out, if we choose, the serpent form and the envenomed 
sting of Alcohol !^^ 

Brother Neel repeated the various clauses of the foregoing 
denunciation with different inflections of the voice, and at 
differing speed. He tried the sentence in a sustained high 
key; then in a measured, awe-stricken bass; and finally he 
mixed both manners in about equal proportions. He seemed 
a little undecided about the construction of the final clause. 
Should it not run, ‘‘detect the serpent form, and stamjD out 
the envenomed sting, or, say, “ detect the envenomed sting, 
and stamp out the serpent form — or, stay: would not “ ser- 
pent shape go better, because of the alliteration — “ serpent- 
ine shape, rather? — no, not “ shape, because we had had 
“ alluring shape at the commencement; “ serpent form,^^ 
then, or “ coils:^^ yes? — “ serpent coils was good, was it not? 
Brother Neel disposed of this point, and proceeded to rehearse 
the vein of anecdote. 

“ Why, my dear friends, the other day a poor man came to 
me, and he said — he was a poor miner, my dear friends, and 
he had been a miner from his youth upward, and his father 
was a miner, and he said— and his face was careworn and 
his limbs were weary, and he had waited at our temper- 
ance hall until the hour came for our evening conference, 
when we meet together for our mutual comfort and our 
mutual inspiration — for who among us is there that can say he 
never flagged and never faltered in the arduous onward 
march? — and this poor man came to me, and he said, ‘ Guv- 
^nor,Mie said, ‘I want to leave ofi drink. ^ Oh, my dear 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 113 

friends, what welcome words were those! ‘ I want to leave oS 
drink, guv'^nor,' he said. And he stood with his grimy face 
and his horny hands, and he looked at me so wistfully, and he 
said to me so sinuply and so earnestly: ‘ Guv^nor, it^s a ^ard 
life, working in the pits!^ And I gazed into his grimy face, 
and I grasped his horny hand, and I said to this poor man, I 
said: ‘ And it^s drink that makes it hard.^ And, oh, my dear 
friends, if you had seen that honest face light up with relief 
and joy and hope! — and my heart bounded and throbbed 
within me — and he said: ^ Guv^nor, I want to leave off work- 
ing in the pits.-’ And I said: ‘ It’s the alcohol you loathe and 
abhor, my dear friend, is it not?’ And he said: ‘ Yes, guv- 
’nor; and the pits.’ And I said: ‘ Can you leave off alcohol, 
and be like me? Am I not happy without alcohol?’ And he 
replied: ‘ Guv’nor, that’s what I’ve come about. I want to 
leave off alkeroil, and be like you. It’s a ’ard life working in 
the pits. I want to be happy like you; and if you’d take me 
in and learn me to preach to people, guv’nor, I’d leave off 
alkeroil. And so would my missus, and, so would my son.’ 
And that poor man has been rescued, my dear friends — res- 
cued from the curse of drink; and his son and his wife have 
been rescued also; and now they are missionaries of the I. 0. 
T. A. , well clad, comfortably housed, and content, and receiv- 
ing three times their former wa^es. And such is the value of 
a good example that we have since had innumerable applica- 
tions from that poor man’s district for similar places in the 
I. 0. T. A. Ah, yes, the cause is prospering, my friends — ” 
etc. , etc. 

‘‘That’s him, sure enough,” remarked Mr. Finch, whose 
frown had disappeared. “ He’s preaching to himself. ” 

“ Do you think you can do it, with what I have here?” 
asked his companion in a cautious under-tone. “ They’re not 
what you have been used to; they’re of French make, you 
know. ” 

“ Let’s have a look at them, to see how they make ’em in 
this country.” Mr. Bingham produced a bunch of skeleton 
keys, upon which articles his young friend bent an intelligent 
scrutiny. “ French make, are they?” he continued. “ Well, 
then, give me Cler ken well!” 

“ Can’t you work with them?” 

“ Oh, I’ll undertake to do it. I’d do it with three hair-pins. 
Grandpa, if you could spare them out of your cliignon!” 

“ Well, the first chance we find we’ll lose no time about it. 
If this is the man who’s got the property, to-night would be 
too late. If the Wilmot diamonds are in his possession at all 


114 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

— and rd stake my life upon it — he can only leave them in his 
portmanteau in that room under lock*and key, or else carry 
them about with him. There is one other place where they 
might be; but though they might be there to-morrow, or to- 
night, I do not think they can be there already. When he 
goes out of his room presently, we shall see whether they are 
stored away in his portmanteau. If they are not in his port- 
manteau, he is carrying them about with him. If he is carry- 
ing them about with him — 

“I object to violence. Grandpa, as you know. I told old 
Clements I wouldnT have anytliing to do with violence.'’^ 

“ You canT object to it more than I do!^"’ ejaculated 
Grandpa, with virtuous emphasis, but still speaking in low 
tones. “ I always have set my face against violence. But we 
caiiT stand in Sir John^s way, if he fancies a«hort cut rather 
than a long way round. And if our man in the next room 
should 23ersist in carrying stolen property about with him in 
the streets of Paris, why Jack may as well have a try for it as 
any of the garroters here. You havQnT come aU this distance 
for nothing, I should hope? I haven’t gone into this spec. — 
and spent my money on it when times are bad, and given my 
energies to it — for nothing, I can tell you! That man in the 
next room is a thief. He is a thief on as big as scale as ever I 
saw; and he’s something else, too, if we put the dots upon the 
‘i’s.’ However, we don’t concern ourselves about anything 
but the property. We don’t care how he came by it; we be- 
lieve he’s got it, and we mean to take it from him. How, if 
he chooses to carry the valuables about with him, he’ll have 
to reckon with Sir John.” 

“ Well, you know what Sir John is. He’ll very likely fol- 
low his old tack: hit this man on the head, put him out, and 
manage to throw all the appearances on to us, Grandpa. ” 

“Hot while I am in the neighborhood, Bartholomew, will 
he manage to throw appearances on to us. But I don’t believe 
our man would carry the stones about with him. It’s against 
all that. Why? He knows very well that if he did happen to 
be suspected by the French police — how can we say that he 
was not seen by some other passenger, a Fi’enchman, perhaps, 
and that they may not be making their preparations now to 
come down upon him? — and that’s wFy we must lose no time. 
If he did happen to be suspected, the people from the pre- 
fecture would take him just as they’d take any rough out of 
the streets, and they’d search him without any ceremony. 
What do they understand about Brother This and Brother 
That; and what do they care? We are not in England. How, 


THE PASSEI^GER FKOM SCOTLAKD YARD. 115 

suppose that diamonds of extraordinary value are found upon 
his person, what answer can he give? But if a fortune in dia- 
monds should be found concealed in his trunk at the hotel he 
could always reply, however preposterous it would seem, that 
‘ some malicious person must have placed them there — the 
real thief, perhaps. And that is what he looiild say, in a min- 
ute, and in England it would go down with a lot of people. 
The I. 0. T. A. would back him up in England, and most 
probably present him with a testimonial. No; he^ll leave the. 
property hidden somewhere in his portmanteau. And to con- 
vey the impression that there ^s nothing of any value in his 
room to tempt the servants, it^s odds he leaves his door un- 
fastened when he goes down-stairs to the tahle-dhote break- 
fast! You think these instruments will do? The lock of tho 
door you can deal with, I know; but what about the portman- 
teau? A portmanteau was the only luggage he had that I 
could see.-’"’ 

“ DonT you trouble about that. Grandpa. I was educated 
by parents that did their duty by. their Bartholomew, the 
eldest of seven. ITl unlock any portmanteau in this house 
with these instruments,'’-’ said Mr. Finch, ^dding, as he spread 
out his delicate fingers, ‘‘ and these 

“ Bat, youTe a smart boy! What a pity you live in Lon- 
don: there^s a fortune to be made here by an artist like you! 
Why donT you come and set up? IM run you.’^ 

“ Not me! Leave London for this place? Why, they tell 
me there are never any fogs here; I should be out of work half 
the time. Ijeave London? Leave Soho, where I was born — 
and Kegent Street, Piccadilly, and Oxford Street, where I'’ve 
earned my living since I could use my hands — not me, Mr. 
Wilkins — no, sirr^ 

“ I could put you in a good line, Bartholomew. It would 
pay you well. 

“ Thank you. Grandpa — but Vd rather stay in London, on 
a little. All my relations live in Saint Giles^’s parish; except 
Uncle Simon, who went to Birmingham to set up, and was 
committed a fortnight ago to take his trial at Warwick Assizes. 
Give me the WYst End on a foggy night !^^ 

“ Your parents must be proud of you, Bartholomew.'’^ 

“ Oh, I'’m a good mechnnic. That I will say; but you 
should see my second brother! There^s one thing I can not 
undertake to do. Grandpa, and I dare say you've thought of 
it. ITl unlock this door, and ITl unlock that portmanteau, 
but I'm d d if I can undertake to lock them again after- 

ward!" 


116 THE PASSEKGEK FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

That’s a little matter we can risk. Our man will make 
no fuss when he finds it out. At the worst, there is somebody 
in this building we can throw suspicion upon. ” 

“ Suppose we get it, what are you going to do with Sir 
John?” 

“ Leave him where he is till we’re out of danger. We can’t 
have him hampering us while there’s any danger; he’ll get his 
share all in good time.” 

‘‘ But you said that the police here would be safe to pounce 
upon him in two or three days, if he stays in the same hotel?” 

“ And I say so still. What of that? It gives us time to get 
clear and to negotiate the stones. They couldn’t prove any- 
thing against him, and they’d be bound to let him go. If we 
had him with us in this room he’d spoil everything — with his 
rage against the man next door for besting him in the train. 
This man got there first, there’s no doubt about it, and Jack 
would be at him, if he had to cut through that wall. When 
Mr. Toppin and the French police have had a look at the hotel 
registers for yesterday morning, they’re certain to turn up at 
Jack’s address. Let them take him. A week or so in the 
Depot won’t do hinj, any harm!” 

“ The Depot? What’s that — quod?” 

‘‘ Yes; and not so nicely furnished as the House of Deten- 
tion.” 

‘‘ Grandpa, look here! It’s all square between us three, 
isn’t it? We’re not going to sell old Jack, are we. Grandpa?” 

‘‘ Sell him? Of course not! He’ll be all right. He’s come 
over on a trip — that’s his story. He’s going on to Nice and 
Cannes, and broke the journey at Paris, to enjoy himself. If 
they identify him, he took a false name because he knew the 
other might get him stopped, and he wanted change of air and 
a little amusement. When I paid your bill this morning I 
told them you were going on first. Let Mr. Toppin have him 
put au secret, and let the police search him for a week, if they 
like. They won’t find anything, as Jack himself says, now 
that he has removed those blood-stains. Awkward, those 
stains; but he had no luck. While they are engaged with 
friend Jack, you and I will be in Amsterdam.” 

‘‘ It must be all square between us three. Grandpa, or else 
I don’t go to work.” 

“ Sell Sir John? I wouldn’t think of such a thing. When 
he came out, he’d swing for the man who sold him!” There 
was a pause. ‘‘ It might perhaps be disagreeable for Sir John 
if they found a fire-arm in his possession. What weapons does 
he carry?” 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 117 

“ I thought of that/^ replied Mr. Finch^, and last night I 
did what I could to set my mind at rest. I never saw him 
with any weapon but the dagger in that cane he carries."’^ 

“ Would you like to get through this without me, since it 
has taken a different turn? — come, now! I We put you on the 
right track, hut 1^11 pull up at this instant if I^m objected to 
in this affair. For all I know, if I chose I could manage it by 
myself, for myself; and even if you got the diamonds you 
might lose them again; and somebody / know, and yoii donW 
know, and Clements never heard of in his life, might be the 
party who would find them.^'’ 

“ Me lose them, to any one here ! Ifil lay a thousand no 
one here can give me my lessons.’’^ 

‘‘ Suppose you went to sleep for a few hours, hey? Sup- 
pose you were not in the least sleepy, and you suddenly went 
to sleep — very soundly to sleep? Oh, I have a good many 
strings to 7ny bow, and I know your name is Walker I'’ 

‘‘ rd lay a thousand no one — 

“ Well, well, wefil drop that side of it. But if you get this 
property, how can you liquidate it? You canW without the 
aid of Benjamin Byers, deceased. Can either you or Sir John 
put any of these diamonds on the market, even the small ones, 
if there are any small ones? How many can Clements, a 
known receiver, dispose of? But I can do it in half an hour 
among my clients in Amsterdam! 1 can pass every one of 
them through the market — ^yes, and at fair terms! But if 
you'd like to see me out of this, if you'd like to go on by your- 
self — say so!" 

Me? Such a thought has never come into my head, I'm 
sure. Why, what a state you're in about it. Grandpa! You 
shall hold the property yourself. I'm not afraid of the confi- 
dence trick being done on me ! Go on without you. Grand- 
pa? not me! No, sir — not me, Mr. Wilkins!" 

A waiter knocked at the door, and, on Mr. Bingham's un- 
fastening it, inquired whether the invalid young gentleman 
would not wish to have a slight repast served in his apartment 
instead of descending. Most decidedly, was Mr. Bingham's 
answer. His young friend would take all his meals in his own 
room. And breakfast could be brought up to them as soon as 
it was ready. The repast need not necessarily be a slight one. 
He had a prodigious appetite himself, and he should remain 
to keep his young friend company. The waiter stood upon 
the threshold* and peered inquisitively into the room. He 
could not see the invalid at all, and Mr. Bingham made way 
for liim to enter. ‘‘ Monsieur slumbers?" asked the waiter. 


118 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


in a whisper. Mr. Bingham could not say, and he moved on 
tiptoe to the bed and gently palled the curtain on one side. 
He shrugged his shoulders, with a gesture of uncertainty, but 
whispered that the breakfast might, all the same, be served as 
soon as it was ready. Mr. Finch, who had taken a flying leap 
through the bed-curtains when the knock came at the door, 
was breathing in a labored manner, and occasionally he 
uttered plaintive moans. 

They had finished their repast subsequently — and a pro- 
digious appetite had certainly had full play, although it was 
not Grandpa^’s — when a bell sounded for several moments in 
the court-yard. 

‘‘ The table d’hote !” said Mr. Bingham; “ get^eady.-’^ 

The invalid rose with alacrity, and followed his considerate 
attendant to the corner of the room. Mr. Bingham moved 
quite as noiselessly as Finch, alias Walker, and the latter was 
in his stockinged feet. They lifted the toilet-table from its 
place. The French gentleman, droning his concert-hall re- 
frains, had gone down some time before. They now heard 
their neighbor on the other side preparing to descend. There 
was the click of a lock and the jingle of a bunch of keys. 
Brother Neel marched with a heavy step to his door, opened 
it, closed it after him, locked it, and passed along the corridor. 

‘‘ He has locked his portmanteau, and he has locked the 
door of his room, too,^^ commented Mr.* Bingham. “ Good 
sign!^^ 

They waited. Other doors communicating with the corridor 
opened and closed; footsteps resounded for an instant and 
died away; and then they seemed to be alone in that corner of 
the building, beyond the possibility of disturbance. Mr. 
Bingham produced an odd-looking handful of twisted wires, 
some of which were no coarser than thread. He handed them 
to Mr. Finch. The invalid, who had his wristbands turned 
up, immediately bent down to the lock of the door communi- 
cating with No. 21. 

Mr. Bingham stepped out of No. 19 into the corridor, and 
shut the door carefully behind him. There was no one to be 
seen. He walked up and down outside the entrances to those 
two chambers situated at the far end of the corridor, and then 
by degrees extended the limits of his patrol. You would have 
said that Mr. Bingham had given a rendezvous to somebody 
who tenanted a room along that corridor, and that he was im- 
patient about his non-arrival. 

When Brother Neel, the Chrysostom of the I. 0. T. A. , re- 
mounted the staircase, a golden toothpick protruding from his 


THE PASSEHGEK FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


119 


lips, he was bringing with him a roll of stout brown paper 
pd a stick of sealing-wax. The elderly gentleman, with the 
inch or two of white whiskers and the florid pear-shaped face, 
had evidently grown tired of waiting for the absentee, for he 
was no longer to be observed pacing backward and forward in 
the corridor. Brother Neel proceeded toward No. 21 and re- 
entered his apartment. It was just as he had left it — alto- 
gether as he had left it. His portmanteau stood upon one of 
the chairs, and on the portmanteau lay his newspapers and a 
bundle of printed documents tied together with broad red 
tape. Just as he had quitted it he found the room. 

Brother Neel began to hum, “ I charge thee, halt! Say — 
friend or foe!^' He went to a table and spread out the roll of 
brown paper. Upon this he placed a newspaper doubled. He 
then lighted one of the candles on the mantel-piece, and de- 
posited near it the sealing-wax ready for use. He transferred 
the printed documents and the half dozen journals under- 
neath to a chair close by, and drew from his pocket a small 
bunch of keys. One of these keys he inserted into the lock of 
the portmanteau. What could be wrong with the key.^ The 
portmanteau was already unlocked! 

How was this? Had he really omitted to secure the lock, in 
spite of his precaution, before quitting the room? Brother 
Neel threw open the portmanteau, tore away the uppermost 
articles, and plunged his hand into a recess contrived, no 
doubt, specially for the reception of jewelry or valuables of 
similarly moderate bulk. The keen anxiety of his expression, 
however, disappeared almost at once. From the recess he drew 
an oblong package in white tissue-paper. The paper was tar- 
nished here and there with an irregular stain; at the contact 
of one of these insignificant patches. Brother Neel let the little 
parcel drop from his hands and stood for a moment staring at 
his fingers. It was not terror that his countenance now be- 
trayed ; it was not surprise, nor was it horror. It was aversion 
simply that his countenance betrayed; and a second longer 
look at these few barely noticeable maculations revealed them 
to be, not blots of dark-red ink, but splashes most probably of 
blood. 

He took up the oblong package again, and partly unfolded 
the outer sheet of tissue-paper in which it had been wrapped. 
At this moment he abruptly looked behind him, penetrating 
every corner and alcove of his apartment with a quick, alarmed, 
suspicious glance. And yet he could have heard no sound in 
either direction, and he had certainly double-locked his door. 

The object enveloped in the folds of tissue-paper had the 


120 THE PASSENGER PROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

form of a pocket-book. But it was not in leather nor prunello; 
it was a sort of pocket-book in black velvet, though from its 
external aspect its contents could not be the correspondence of 
the I. 0. T. A. The black velvet case was neatly bound up 
with thin bands of green silk. It bulged here and there in a 
curious manner; perhaps Brother Neel kept his signet-rings in 
this case — or articles of jewelry which, in recognition of his 
merit, might have been presented to him by grateful converts, 
grudging colleagues, or admiring friends. He pressed the vel- 
vet with the fingers of both hands, and then, as the protuber- 
ances which met his touch satisfied him, replaced the neatly 
bound velvet case in the first sheet of tissue-paper, and so made 
up the little package as before. The blotches that resembled 
blood-stains might have been consumed in a single minute in 
the flame of that one candle. Far from destroying them. 
Brother Neel apparently took pains to expose them precisely 
as at first, although he stiU avoided touching the marks them- 
selves. Mr. Bingham or Inspector Byde, with their experi- 
ence of the world and their trained insight into criminal mo- 
tive, would have assigned an identical reason for this measure, 
and, with the impartiality of experts, might have commended 
it as an act of the most wideawake sagacity. 

Brother Neel surrounded the package with a heap of pam- 
phlets and written documents, which he procured from his 
portmanteau. Amid half-yearly reports, tabular statements, 
popular leaflets, etc. , it soon became entirely lost to view. The 
papers so accumulated he deposited with great care in one of 
the journals spread out on the table. The parcel thus made 
up he inclosed in another newspaper, and then he enveloped 
the whole in the stouter sheets wMch he had obtained from be- 
low. The last layer but one he knotted securely with cord, 
and on every knot he placed a seal. The final inclosure he 
paid less attention to osteilsibly. He sealed it only in a single 
place, and he attached the cord in such a fashion that his 
precious parcel looked like the most ordinary parcel in the 
world. What he next did was to inscribe the name of the 
society upon the covering. With the rusty pen of the ink- 
stand on his mantel-piece, he printed in large capitals along 
the brown paper covering— ‘‘ I. 0. T. A., Personal Notes, 
Reports, etc.-’^ 

Later in the day, when discussing business with Brother 
Bamber, at the offices in the Boulevard Haussmann, Brother 
Neel desired him to take temporary charge of documents 
which he should most likely need in the course of his labors. 
They would be more conveniently lodged at that spot than at 


THE PASSEKGEE FEOM SCOTLACT YAEB. 


121 


his hotel, so far from the quarters of the I. 0. T. A. as well 
as from the National Library, where he should be prosecuting 
his researches. Brother Bamber placed the parcel in the large 
safe of the I. 0. T. A. 

Brother Neel had not, however, made his journey un- 
observed. The gentleman who had ambled along at a safe dis- 
tance in his rear, from the Eue de Oompi^gne to the Boulevard 
Haussmann, had stationed himself at a point from which he 
could easily perceive the eloquent lecturer, as he issued from 
the offices again. It was Mr. Bingham who thus awaited him; 
and Mr. Bingham noted that the precious parcel had un- 
doubtedly been left in Brother Bamber ^s keeping, at the 
premises of the I. 0. T. A. 


CHAPTEE XIL 

A SECOND visit to the Avenue Marceau had provided matter 
for notes which covered page -after page of Mr. Toppings 
memorandum-book. He did not mean to communicate all liis 
information to his London colleague, but the one or two facts 
which he did intend to report relating to the point more im- 
mediately before them would, he reckoned, rather show the in- 
spector that he knew how to conduct an inquiry with dispatch. 
About the time that Mr. Bingham and his young friend, Mr. 
Finch, the native of St. Giles’s Parish, were the concealed 
auditors of Brother NeeFs rehearsed harangue. Detective Top- 
pin was insidiously plying questions in the Avenue Marceau. 

Fact No. 1 : Miss Knollys had received a letter from abroad 
by the last post on the previous evening. The postmark was 
‘‘ Dover. 

Fact No. 2: Miss Knollys had been suddenly *taken ill; and 
Mrs. Bertram, who usually visited a great deal, and whose very 
day of reception this day had happened to be, had at once 
given instructions that, in consequence of a family bereave- 
ment, she was not at home to any callers. 

And so the two ladies were connected by family ties? Well, 
perhaps they were, and perhaps they were not — how could she 
tell — the concierge had responded. The family bereavement 
was very likely no bereavement at all; the servants had^ men- 
tioned the orders transmitted to them, but they all believed 
that the sudden indisposition of Mile. Knollys was the sole 
‘‘ bereavement which afflicted Mnie. Bertram. Bad news, 
most probably, from England — a death? A death! — but 
missives containing intelligence of that kind generall)’^ had a 
mourning border, and nothing with a mourning border had 


122 


THE PASSEKGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


arrived through the post for either lady. Telegram? Well, 
but uo telegrams had been delivered at the address for a week 
or a fortnight. Tenez ! — the last telegram that ever came to 
Mme. Bertram's address was prior to the arrival of Mile. 
Knollys. It was a message from the latter — announcing her 
departure for Paris, had stated Mme. BertranPs maid, when 
gossiping in the concierge^s lodge the same afternoon. And, 
indeed, the young lady had arrived that evening with her own 
maid — an Engleesh! 

Ah — Miss Knollys had an English maid? What sort of a 
person — pleasant-like and sociable? Sociable! Ha! If she 
had a tongue in her head it must be only because it was the 
fashion to have one! Could not exchange a word with any- 
body as she stalked in and out of the house, and never even 
looked in the direction of the lodge. A pretty piece of assur- 
ance, she should think, for an ill-dressed awkward grenadier 
like that to take a place as lady^s-maid, when she didnT know 
how to hang her own clothes on her angles! But who ever 
found an Engleesh, mistress or maid, who had the slightest 
notion of elegance in dress, until they learned, like Mme. Ber- 
tram, by residence in Paris? Yes; ladies^ -maids like that — 
there were plenty of them, working in the beetroot-fields in 
France! And as to being ‘‘ pleasant, she seemed about as 
pleasant as the dentists at the free hospital down-town. “ But 
you can judge for yourself,^-’ added the concierge; ‘‘ there she 
goes, out for a little walk before breakfast. Dr ole de pays, 
votre Angleterre I a. country where the women get up early in 
the morning to take walks in the cold, for the benefit of their 
health, as they pretend, when it^s so much easier to remain 
in bed!’’ Mr. Toppin assured the virago whom he had bribed 
into this fiow of language that the hygienic practice she alluded 
to was not by any means absurdly prevalent among his coun- 
trywomen. 

The concierge had glanced through his window which com- 
manded from her lodge a view of the lobby. From his own 
position, as he stood conversing with her, Toppin could not 
catch any glimpse of the derided Engleesh.” He heard the 
glass-door of the marble lobby opened and closed, however. 
Then^ as Miss Knollys’s maid stepped on to the stone pave- 
ment leading past the lodge entrance to the main gate-way of 
the building, he saw her, and was struck with astonishment. 

The maid held an envelope in her hand, and as she ap- 
proached it seemed that she was intending, on this occasion at 
any rate, to address herself for guidance to the inimical por- 
tress. At the lodge door she perceived Mr. Toppin. Her hesi- 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


123 


tation was quite momentary, and might easily have escaped 
notice. She resumed her course, and in another instant had 
passed through the archway into the Avenue Marceau. 

“ I do believe she had it in her mind to ask me a question,’^ 
exclaimed the concierge — “ a question with regard to some 
errand, no doubt, on which she has been sent; a^ direction, 
perhaps, written on that envelope. Ah, she would ‘have been 
well received! You would have seen how I should have re- 
ceived her! I should have said: ^ Mademoiselle, I am the por- 
tress;^ I should have said: ‘ I am the portress, mademoiselle — 
not the commissionaire of the next comer, nor the general 
post-office!'’ Aha! — she would have been well received. I 
think I know how to put people in their places! Airs like 
that! Would not any one fancy she was the mistress? Ex- 
cept that the mistress is as gentle and unpretending, and re- 
fined, from what I have seen of her, as the best-born lady of 
the true high world: whereas, this — that! That canT speak 
to honest persons in its own station, and gives itself airs be- 
cause it has a complexion and a figure!’-’ 

Top pin gazed at the empty archway. The imperial shape 
had vanished, but — oh, poor Toppin! — it had crossed his path. 
On heedless ears fell the harsh monotone of his informant. 
He could still see a clear pale face, black hair and eyebrows, 
and large, dark eyes that looked full at him for a moment — 
large eyes of the darkest blue. 

“ Airs like that! I think I’d show some taste in toilet be- 
fore I went about posing for a princess. What a costume, and 
what a hat!” 

Mr. Toppin remembered no detail whatever of the hat, and 
of the costume he remembered only that it fitted the wearer 
tightly, and was plain. One fleeting attitude, statuesque and 
unstudied, defined itself again before his view as he stared 
blankly through the glass doors of the lodge; and he half 
thought he saw again, as the imperial shape continued onward 
to the archway, the self-conscious movement of the handsome 
woman who knows 'that she is watched admiringly. He had 
not observed any angles, he presently declared; nor had it 
occurred to him to guess at any. 

What did the male sex know about the artifices of the toilet! 
It was always easy to deceive them — always — unless they hap- 
pened to be man-milhners. But certainly monsieur had been • 
impressed by Mile. Lydia — that was the new maid’s name — 
what, not impressed? Oh, there could be no denying the fact; 
monsieur was undoubtedly impressed. Well, she had a figure 
and a complexion; but as for any taste, grace, or refinement of 


1^4 THE l^SSEHGER FKOM SCOTLAND YAED. 

the wardrobe, why, the commonest little street girl of Paris, 
lazy, thoughtless, and slovenly, and loitering on her way to 
school to play at marbles with the telegraph boys, could choose 
her colors or put on a piece- of imitation lace with more dis- 
cernment than this professed Engleesh lady's-maid. Still, if 
the striding life-guard who had just gone out responded to the 
notion which monsieur had forced of feminine attractiveness, 
why did he not offer to escort her.^ This Mile. Lydia was his 
compatriot — At all events, the concierge added, she 
herself really must now turn her attention to her regular 
duties. 

The temptation to offer his assistance to his superb fellow- 
countrywoman, who, after all, if strange to Paris, might have 
been grateful for the aid, had already presented itself, in fact, 
to Mr. Toppin's mind. What restrained him was a sentiment 
rather unusual with this gentleman — an odd feeling of in- 
feriority. If it had been the mistress who was masquerading 
in the maid's attire, the habitual gallantly of Mr. Toppin, 
when he found himself among his social equals, could not have 
been more suddenly frozen. J ust as well that he had shown 
her no civility, thought Toppin; it might have involved him 
in attentions which would have distracted him from the in- 
quiry. Ah, it would not do to allow his mind to be distracted; 
it would not do to let this chance of distinguishing himself pro- 
fessionally shp through his fingers! He meant to show In- 
spector Byde that there was one at least of the younger men 
who understood his business. Detective Toppin resumed his 
interrogation of the portress, and by that sagacious female was 
introduced in an off-hand way to one or two domestics of the 
establishment. The process necessitated a disbursement of the 
fee admitted in forensic circles under the designation of the 
‘‘refresher." The coachman and the valet-de-chamhre con- 
strued “ refreshment " in a sense more literal. They ad- 
journed with Mr. Toppin to the first turning on the left. Here 
they were welcomed with smiles by the tavern-keeper's wife, 
who called them by their Christian names. The tavern-keeper 
asked them how they felt after their hbations of the previous 
night, and placed small glasses of a dark crimson fluid before 
them, without waiting for their order. Mr. Toppin lingered 
in the hope of snapping up some unconsidered trifle of the con- 
versation. But although they all talked freely upon the in- 
evitable topic among domestics, “ the masters and the mis- 
tresses," nothing rewarded his patience but the customary 
sarcasms of the servants' hall. He learned as much about 
Ml'S. Bertram as he could have wished to learn, and probably 


THE PASSEHGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


125 


more than was authentic. He failed, however, to elicit any 
substantial information with respect to her visitor. Miss 
Knollys. The character of the majestic Mile. Lydia could not 
be expected to escape review from acrimonious fellow-servants. 
She was cold and silent, mysterious and disdainful — ‘‘ but 
with all her prudishness, no better than the rest of us, allez !” 
Toppin heard these animadversions with annoyance. He did 
his best to change the subject, and succeeded; for the actions 
of that handsome Mile. Lydia, pronounced Mr. Toppin men- 
tally, could not by any possibility be “ material to the in- 
quiry. 

Toppin was wrong. His colleague, the inspector, would 
have been shocked at the mistake, so gross it was, and palpa- 
ble. In a very different manner would Mr. Byde have acted 
had he been placed in Toppings situation; but Byde himself, in 
delegating an important branch of the inquiry to a subordinate, 
proved that, as Grandpa had observed to his friends from Lon- 
don, he was not necessarily infallible, although eminent and 
respected, and ‘‘ one of the best.'’^ 

Hastening from the Avenue Marceau, Mile. Lydia had 
directed her steps toward a cab-rank in the immediate vicinity. 
There she had shown to a cabman the lower part of the ad- 
dress upon the envelope; and in another minute the vehicle 
containing her was being driven rapidly enough in the dhec- 
tion of the Tuileries Gardens. 

The cab stopped at the temporary premises of the general 
post-office. The tall figure clad in the plain tight-fitting cos- 
tume alighted quickly from the vehicle, and passed through 
the swinging doors in front of which a sentryman was posted. 
Once inside the building. Mile. Lydia proceeded more leisurely 
about her errand. It was with the poste restante that her 
business lay. The clerk who sat idle at the desk forced her 
to repeat her application, as he sent an insolent stare into her 
dark and brilliant eyes; and while she wrote her name upon a 
slip of paper for his better comprehension, he coughed in a 
significant manner to attract the notice of his comrades. There 
were no letters waiting at the paste restante for a Miss Mur- 
doch — LydW Murdoch — he replied, after a studiously deliber- 
ate search. 

The applicant then drew forth the envelope we have already 
seen. It was addressed in a feminine handwriting to ‘‘ Gren- 
ville Montague Vyne, Esq. and in the charge of the paste 
restante emjjloye it was forthwith deposited by Miss Knollys^s 
maid. The latter made her way back to the swinging doors, 
unconscious of the pleasantries exchanged behind her. To do 


126 THE PASSEHGEK FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

them full justice, these dilapidated clerks of the French post- 
office refrained from raising their voices to an unmannerly and 
compromising pitch; and their comments were either in “ half 
words, intelligible to themselves alone, or in broken phrases 
which, if challenged, could be indignantly repudiated with the 
most convincing invocations of personal honor — as usual. 

By the time Miss Murdoch had returned to the Avenue Mar- 
ceau, Toppin was well on his way to the detective department 
of the Paris police. He de la Cit6. The functionary upon 
whom he made his call kept him kicking his heels in an outer 
office for a longer period than Mr. Toppin thought respectful. 

“ Eh Hen, Monsieur ToppeenV^ demanded the functionary 
in question, in a patronizing tone, when he at length admitted 
his visitor to an audience. What^s the news — quoi de nou- 
veau 

“ Anything fresh asked Mr. Toppin, insinuating a com- 
pliment, and stringing his interlocutor's titles together with 
tolerable fluency. 

‘‘ Fresh? Well, as you see, the ministry are good for 
another six weeks. They came through the vote yesterday in 
excellent style. 

“ I mean about the night mail affair — the mysterious occur- 
rence in the night mail from London?'’-’ 

‘‘Oh — Hen, Hen 1 That little business of the Englishman 
— quite so — perfectly! Well?’^ 

“ Whenever you need my help, you know, in the difficult 
process of establishing identities, you know — of course, I am 
not aware how far you may have gone — I am at your disposal. 
Monsieur Hy — quite at your disposal, you know.’-’ 

“Yes, yes— identities — at our disposal. Monsieur Toppin — 
identities — yes, yes! Well, we shall not have to trouble you 
just yet for the assistance thus amiably offered — not just yet 
— no, mon clier confrere, not yet. ” 

“ Then, up to the present, your men have lighted upon no 
traces?” 

“ No traces? Tiens, tiens ! — how fast he goes, our excel- 
lent and admirable Toppin — how fast, how fast! No traces? 
On the contrary, mon Have — on the contrary — nom d’un chien 
— ^yes, nom d^un pHit honhomme ! On the contrary, que 
diahle !” 

“ I thought it would be singular. Monsieur Hy, with your 
talents and experience to direct the men. ’ ’ 

“ Oh, oh, oh ! — (^a ! — We do what we can — we just do what 
we can! And the healthy how goes the health of the resp6ct- 


THE PASSEKGER FEOM SCOTLAND YARD. 


137 


able and valiant confrere^ the ingenious, active, and invaluable 
Toppin — the little health, how goes it?’^ 

‘ Not too badly, answered Toppin, endeavoring to bear up. 

“ That^s right — that^s capital — that^’s very well. La pHite 
sanU va Men! — ‘oh, yes! vayry good, ^ as you say in En- 
glish.'’^ 

“ Well, you know — when you want my services for the iden- 
tities, you know, or any other portion of the inquiry — 

“Identities — yes, yes — identities. Eh Men, Toppeen — look- 
ing over what we fancy we have ascertained, I do not think, I 
really do not think, we shall need to call upon you, or to dis- 
turb you in the least. 

“indeed! A clew?' ^ 

“ A little clew — a little, little, quite a little clew! But 
still " — Monsieur Hy closed his eyes, raised his eyebrows as far 
as they could go, and imitated the sound of an effervescent 
beverage escaping from a bottle — “ sufficient!" 

“ What! — you have picked out the murderer?" 

“ Oho — oho! A rather brutal statement of the proposition, 
that — mon ami Toppeen. Too hurried, too hurried! Affairs 
like this are not easily decided. You are not going to tell me 
that you get along with such rapidity in London. Why, the 
crime was only committed yesterday morning, before day- 
break!" 

“Just so," acknowledged Toppin. 

“ Well, then?" 

“ But— come, come. Monsieur Hy! With all respect for 
your authority, Em not a novice either. Permit me to tell 
you that if you hold a clew it can be only to one of two men, 
and that if you want a speedy identification of them I am the 
only person who can do it." 

“ Two men? Ah, perfectly! — the two men you reported 
yesterday; yes, yes — I have their descriptions by me some- 
where. The local returns have not yet come in, and so far as 
those individuals are concerned the matter stands where it did. 
No doubt a good many travelers arrived in Paris during yes- 
terday and took up their quarters at hotels — no doubt, no 
doubt! That is one side of the inquiry, and we shall explore 
it as a matter of course. To go through all the returns, how- 
ever, selecting the likely cases, and then to attend upon the 
spot for the final inquiries, will require some time. The pre- 
caution will not be neglected, but we need not distress our- 
selves. A day or two more or less, voyons .^" 

The speaker shrugged his shoulders and smiled compassion- 
ately upon Toppin. 


128 THE PASSENGER FR03I SCOTLAND YARD. 

“ Yon will pardon me, Monsieur Hy, but don^t you think 
we shall be giving these two men the opportunity to change 
their quarters and get away?"^ 

“ Oh, they shall not get away! They are foreigners, and 
we have good descriptions of them, through you, mon cher 
To'p'peen. But to be plain with you, excellent friend, and fully 
recognizing your commendable vigilance, we have looked for 
the guilty person elsewhere. 

Mr. Toppin ojffered no response. He knew the capacity of 
the French police for the achievement of astonishing discov- 
eries as well as for the perpetration of amazing blunders. 

“ Yes, we have looked elsewhere,’^ resumed Monsieur Hy — 
“ we have looked in another direction, and we have found — 
firstly, a certain person whom you are acquainted with your- 
self, Toppeen, with whom you have been in communication, 
and whom I should advise you, in a friendly spirit, just to 
keep your eye on.^^ 

“ Qui 

‘‘ A gentleman who came from London by the night mail, 
described himself as an English detective officer when the train 
reached Paris, viewed the corpse before the arrival of the sta- 
tion commissary, took hasty notes in a suspicious manner, and 
gave a different description of himself entirely when he filled 
up the police-sheet at his hotel opposite. A gentleman who 
wrote down on the police-sheet of the hotel that he was a trav- 
eler from Brighton, in the department of Sussex, and an archi- 
tect by occupation. 

“Byder^ 

“ A gentleman who has since received — M. Hy opened a 
desk and glanced at a memorandum — ‘‘ it was this very morn- 
ing, early, to be exact — a telegram, of which I need not say 
we know the contents and the sender’s name. A gentleman 
who knew from the commencement that suspicion would de- 
scend upon certain other persons — viz. , the two men our laud- 
able Toppeen can identify; and a gentleman who carefully 
refrains from acting in concert with the prefecture, but watches 
our investigations through the loyal, honest confrere always 
welcome with us, Toppeen!” 

Byde? Inspector Byde? Ho; this was too much! Toppin 
laughed, loud and long. 

‘‘ Hein, lieinf^ continued the gratified functionary, his face 
beaming with approval — “have I hit it, hein? Laugh on — 
that’s nervous, that laugh! I comprehend that it should sur- 
prise you; but have I hit it?” 

“ Of course you see what the supposition implies?” 


THE PASSENGER PROM SCOTLAND YARD. 1.^9 

'' Of course I do.^^ 

‘‘ And do you think it probable for a single instant? Come 
now. Monsieur Hy, from colleague to colleague, do you mean 
to tell me that you think it probable that a well-known police 
officer — and I may as well say at once that Byde is one of the 
most respected men in Scotland Yard, the English Suretc — 
would take advantage of accidental circumstances to commit a 
robbery, and not only so, but commit a murder for the 
sake of robbery?^"' 

And do you mean to tell me that you think it improbable? 
Well, well, Toppeen, mon from colleague to colleague 

— we are alone, here — can you look at me fixedly in the two 
eyes and say, knowing what you know, that the supposition is 
extravagant?’^ 

“ On the English side of the Channel — yes; altogether ex- 
travagant.” 

Whereas, on this side?” 

Oh, I won’t permit myself to pass judgment on your com- 
patriots, Monsieur Hy! The man we are speaking of is a com- 
patriot of my own.” 

Well, then, I ivill permit myself to pass judgment. Mon- 
sieur Toppeen. I know my own compatriots, and I know 
human nature, too, I rather flatter myself — and I flatter my- 
self that I don’t flatter myself unduly. Given the temptation, 
and human nature always yields. But do I say that the 
temptation always arrays itself in the same guise? Not in the 
least, not in the least. You have to find the moment juste y I 
don’t deny it; but for every — mark me, every — type and speci- 
men of human nature there exists some form or other of 
temptation which is irresistible. Why are your country-people 
to be considered as of superior morality to my own? Do your 
newspapers prove that th^ are so? Not exactly! Why should 
this Monsieur Byde of necessity escape suspicion?” 

‘‘ Then that is your precious clew? You are really aiming 
at Inspector Byde? who, I don’t mind adding for your informa- 
tion, came over precisely to watch the movements of the de- 
ceased.” 

‘‘ Ah, indeed! He came over precisely to watch the move- 
ments of the deceased? , A fact to be noted in the dossier.^’ 

M. Hy opened the desk again. He propped up the lid, put 
his head inside the desk, and noted his new fact upon a sheet 
of white foolscap, ruled with water lines. Toppin reddened 
with vexation. 

But I haven^t enlightened you upon our ‘ secondly,’ ” re- 
sumed M. Hy; ‘'and our ‘secondly’ is serious. For, of 

5 


130 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

course, our ‘ firstly ^ was but academical conjecture — ba, ba, 
l^La! — a case for my volume; my volume — bab! a little work I 
am preparing for tbe use of tbe police in every country with a 
civilization — a manual, oui, monsieur, a manual on ‘ Tbe 
Theory of Surmise in IJndetected Crime.-’ 

‘‘ So you have a ‘ secondly 

Oui, mon hon! and a substantial ‘ secondly!’ otherwise — 
no, don’t look at me like that!— otherwise our worthy Toppeen 
would be legitimately suspected — oh, I justify it in the 
‘ Theory!’ — of connivance in the crime by reason of his com- 
munications with the suspected criminal. Ha, ha, ha! our 
worthy, zealous, and patriotic Toppeen, so anxious that the 
Surete shall discover the two men hiding away in Paris, taken 
into custody himself, cast into the felon’s cell, rigidly cross- 
questioned by a juge dHnstruction who — we’ll take it for 
granted — doesn’t like the English, and eventually brought up 
at the Assizes, with his respected confrere, who was a passenger 
from Scotland Yard. Ha, ha, ha! that solemn face would 
make the joke assassinatingly, too exquisitely piercing. What 
a scene! — oh, oh, oh! — with that solemn face! — no, keep that 
solemn face— don’t smile! Ah, mon Dieu ! I thank thee for 
the joy of this. What a rapturous tableau — what .a deobstru- 
ent! Eh, va done, vieux farceur V’ 

M. Hy snatched up a long fiat ruler, and mirthfully poked 
Toppin in the ribs with it. Mr. Toppin acknowledged the fun 
with a lugubrious smile. 

‘‘ What a pity we can’t realize such a scene!” continued M. 
Hy, changing to a mournful tone. “ What a pity, what a 
pity! It would make an artistic situation, and would ravish 
the gallery. Officers of the English Surete, on the track of 
criminals, tracked themselves, and finally convicted by their 
colleagues of the French Surete ! The man who could do that 
would be made. 1 could do that. It would be a fine illustra- 
tion of my ‘ Theory,’ part two, section eight. What an ad- 
vertisement! Edition upon edition of ^ The Theory of Sur- 
mise in Undetected Crime;’ and the Legion of Honor for its 
author, Michel Auguste Hy. Ah! what a pity we can’t man- 
age it!’' 

Can’t you manage it, indeed?” asked Toppin, sarcastic- 
ally; for he was nettled. 

“ Well, yon see, there’s our ‘ secondly,’ which is serious. 
We looked at all the possible hypotheses, I should think, and 
the one we have selected seems to be pretty well borne out by 
the researches. What were the main hypotheses? Our jour- 
nals talk of a drame intime; they are always eager to in- 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 131 

sinuate drames intimes — a family scandal or a vengeance. 
Now, to affirm a family scandal, we must know somethiiig 
more about the identity of a victim than we can ascertain by ’ 
means of linen marked with only two initials. Then, as to the 
category of vengeances, you have principally those which are 
inspired by women, and those which women carry out. We 
might have spent a great deal of time over matters of this sort, 
had not circumstances helped us to a simpler explanation. 
We say that the present story is the common one of murder 
for the sake of gain. And the assassin? We have him — the 
assassin. 

M. Hy reached across the desk for a newspaper. 

“ You have him — in custody?^’’ stammered Toppin. 

We have him,^'’ repeated M. Hy, turning to the money 
article, and apparently perusing it with keen interest. “ When 
I say the assassin, of course I douT mean to say that he has 
been brought up before the Seine Assize Court, and found 
guilty by a jury ot his fellow-citizens — three per cent, per- 
petuals, rise of fifteen centimes; unified, stationary; Portu- 
guese, going up — nor do I mean to say that he has yet made 
his confession. Y^e haven T seriously questioned him; we're 
waiting — waiting till he gets sober. 

Toppin only partially succeeded in dissembling his bewilder- 
ment. 

“ Banque de Paris, 770; stood at 745 day before yesterday. 
Credit Foncier — good; Credit Lyonnais — When he gets 
sober we shall question him. Guess who it is! Can’t? Why, 
the guard of the train, 7no7i brave!” 

“ What, the English through guard?” 

No; the French guard from Calais!” 

Ah, the French guard from Calais!” 

“ Yes. You wouldn’t have thought of that?” 

‘‘No; considering that the rings and other valuables worn 
by the victim were not disturbed, and that there was a fairly 
good sum of money in his j)Ocket. ” 

“ Money in his pocket, yes; but how much he had about 
him before he was murdered we don’t know. One or two of 
the railway servants fancy they have noticed this man at the 
Gare du Nord as an occasional traveler. His appearance is 
that of an ordinary business man, and what sums of money he 
might travel with we can’t tell at present. We find that the 
guard has been long enough on the service between Calais and 
Paris to know some of the periodical passengers. These rail- 
way affairs are becoming scientific, nom d’lin chien I The 
valuables and money are of course left as a blind.” 


132 THE PASSEHGEE FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

A case of i^urely theoretical susiDicion, then?’^ 

“ No, because we have the weapon used.^^ 

“ Found on the prisoner?"^ 

‘‘No. If we had found the weapon in his possession we 
might have entertained grave doubts as to his guilt. Assum- 
ing that the crime was committed after the last stoppage, viz. , 
Oreil, we ordered the line to be searched along both sides. 
The regular guard, being familiar with the country, would in 
all likelihood select a favorable spot for ridding himself of the 
compromising weapon. We therefore had the search con- 
ducted more particularly among the trees which border the 
line so densely on this and the other side of Chantilly. 

And the weapon has been found already? Quick work! 
But why connect it specially with the guard of the train 

“ We, therefore, in this manner reconstruct the crime: The 
French guard has passed along the foot-board of the entire train 
once or twice in the earlier portion of the journey to examine 
the tickets. That forms part of his duty, but nothing exists 
to hinder him from passing backward and forward as often and 
as deliberately as he chooses. Very well. In the night he is 
quite invisible for the passengers, but he can plainly see, from 
his post outside, the whole of the interior of every compart- 
ment which may not have every one of its blinds closely drawn 
down. The guard notices this passenger alone in the. compart- 
ment. The passenger is asleep, or has his eyes closed. Bon ! 
The guard has the right of asking for the traveler's ticket 
again, and this right not only accounts for his reappearance at 
the window while the train is running at full speed, but excuses 
his entry into the carriage itself, if the traveler should sud- 
denly discover him. Bom cVun pijye ! — what happens? He 
shoots him at his ease, and pick-pockets with celerity but dis- 
crimination.^^ 

“I donT think, objected Toppin, “ that with premedita- 
tion such as that a man would choose ^ fire-arm for the busi- 
ness. 

“ Sure and clean said M. Hy, impatiently. 

“ And the report ?^^ 

“ Covered by the din and rattle of the train. And then the 
guard, who knows the line, knows where the railway bridges 
cross it; and at those points the noise redoubles.'" 

“ And what is your explanation of the scrap of folded paper 
found on the fioor — the paper with the address on it: Adelaide, 
care of a London post-office?" 

“ Pulled out of the breast-pocket hurriedly, with whatever 
else was taken from it — pulled out unperceived and dropped." 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


133 


Byde’s explanation exactly, remembered Toppin. But Byde 
bad the best of reasons for his opinion; he believed that the 
breast-pocket had been supposed by the thief to contain the 
Wilmot diamonds. How would the didactic Hy, who must be 
ignorant of the Wilmot case, explain the rifling of the inner 
pocket, while everything else had apparently been left un- 
touched? He put the question. 

Why, said M. Hy, it was simplicity itself. Either the guard 
had some especial knowledge of this periodical voyager by the 
Northern Eailway, in which event they need look no further; 
or the guard acted upon the general supposition that most trav- 
elers carry their most valuable property in places concealed 
from common observation. What did they perceive in the 
present case? A coat and waistcoat unbuttoned. A pocket 
in the lining of the waistcoat. To shorten the explorations of 
an experienced thief, nothing could have been better designed 
than this capacious pocket in the waistcoat hning. The first 
thing he looked for, naturally! The stolen property consisted 
either of bank-notes or precious stones, M. Hy concluded; and 
the amount must have been considerable for all those good 
rings to have been left upon the fingers. 

‘‘ Yes, but how do you connect this fire-arm with the guard 
of the train ?"’"’ demanded Toppin, aggressively. 

Because it was not found along the line between Creil and 
Paris, but elsewhere. The search along the line is still going 
on, as a matter of routine. But — 

There was a knock at the door. M. Hy interrupted his ex- 
position to growl: Entrez I” which, not being heard, he had 
to repeat, and which he did more loudly repeat, appending a 
sonorous epithet. A subordinate officer entered and saluted. 

— But in the first place we can go back a long way in the 
guard^'s antecedents, and they are bad. What is it, Huval?^^ 

The new-comer advanced three steps, handed a note to his 
superior, saluted, and fell back three steps again. 

And, in the second place, the revolver, recently discharged, 
was found hidden away in the prisoner^’s dweihng. Then 
comes the question — 

M. Hy had broken the seal of the envelope, and was perus- 
ing the missive. 

“ Then comes the question, in the third place, whether — But 
you can read this for yourself.’" 

He folded down the upper part of the communication, and 
passed the note across the desk. Toppin glanced at the passage 
indicated. The style was that of a succinct report. He read 
it through twice, and with a sigh passed it back to M. Hy. He 


134 


THE PASSEHGEK FEOM SCOTLAND YARD. 


had there read that the bullet which caused the death of the 
Englishman lying at the morgue had been found to correspond 
exactly with the chambers of the fire-arm hidden on the prem- 
ises of the man now in custody — the French guard of the train. 


CHAPTER XIIL 

The telegram to which M. Hy had referred in his conversa- 
tion with Toppin was, as a matter of fact, a message to In- 
spector Byde from the Criminal Investigation Department, 
Scotland Yard. It apprised the injector of an important 
proceeding on the part of the Mr. Sinclair who was arrested at 
Dover. Sinclair had affirmed and reaffirmed his innocence, 
had demanded that writing materials should be furnished 
him without delay, and had then curtly refused altogether to 
reply. He had no explanations to make, he had said; he had 
already reiterated the declaration of liis innocence; and ho 
‘‘ should not stoop to make any further responses.’^ He had 
immediately availed himself of the writing material, however, 
remarking that he wished particularly to catch the next mail 
from Dover to the Continent. The letter which he had hand- 
ed over to the local authorities for transmission by the post 
bore a Paris address. It had been duly forwarded, and in the 
ordinary course of things should have been delivered in Paris 
the same evening. The direction was to the Avenue Marceau, 
Ho. 95, Aiix Soins de Madame Bertram. The recipient was a 
Miss Knollys. Would the inspector see to this? concluded the 
telegram. 

Thus it happened that not long after the departure of Detect- 
ive Toppin from the Avenue Marceau, Mr. Inspector Byde 
presented himself at the residence of Mrs. Bertram, Ho. 95. 
Mme. Bertram was not at home, answered the concierge — at 
least she believed not. Monsieur could ascertain for himself, 
if he chose to take the trouble to mount two flights of stairs. 
The suite tenanted by Mme. Bertram was “on the second."’ 
There was a lift; monsieur knew how to manage it without 
doubt? Mile. Knollys? oh, yes — a yoking English lady visiting 
Mme. Bertram— recently arrived from London. Mile. Knollys 
was not at home either, believed the concierge. She had been 
taken with an indisposition on the previous evening, and would 
not be at home to anybody. 

The inspector had arranged his irrogramme before leaving 
the hotel, and this answer, which he had extracted from the 
portress by the disbursement of a five-franc piece, placed him 


THE PASSENGER PROM SCOTLAND YARD. 135 

in readiness for his reception on the second,” at the private 
apartments of Mme. Bertram. 

I should recommend you to make quite sure that Made- 
moiselle Knollys is not at home at this moment,'’^ said he in 
his panache French, with its three dialects. ‘‘ Take my card, 
and remember that it is Mademoiselle Knollys, not Madame 
Bertram, whom I wish to see. I am in no hurry, and can wait 
while you are prosecuting your inquiries in the household. ” 

The footman was the free-and-easy individual who had been 
imbibing with the coachman an hour or two earlier at Mr. 
Toppings expense. He had since then had time to don his 
morning livery, and to tone down his complexion, and to arch 
his eyebrows as a well-paid and well-nourished footman, who 
has served in good establishments, and entertains respect for 
his employers, ought to learn to arch them permanently. He 
measured Mr. Byde with the disdainful sweep of the regard 
which only footmen, fashionable beauties, and illiterate million- 
naires can practice to perfection. The look should have with- 
ered the inspector, but unfortunately for its success that gen- 
tleman habitually took no notice of such manifestations as the 
superb attitude, the haughty stare, the frigid manner, and the 
crushing retort. It is true that he was not at all a diffident, 
sensitive, or feeble person. Although a man of worth, he was 
perhaps but a superior sort of peremptory sergeant, a very 
shrewd policeman with the political disregard of any weapon 
that might not be positively lethal. And nevertheless there 
are men of worth, and women, too, strange to say, whom the 
direct menace of the lethal weapon will affect less keenly than 
any footman^s jeer or any courtesan^s insult, the triumphal 
march of any illiterate millionnaire, or the cold scorn of any 
handsome woman, who, in her lounge through flowery meads 
of life, has not yet chanced to encounter the variola. 

Inspector Byde inclosed his card within an envelope. The 
latter would easily open, being freshly gummed, he observed 
to the domestic; at the same time he would strongly advise 
him not to open it in the kitchen before delivering it to his 
mistress for Miss Knollys. Measuring his interlocutor with 
another proud look, a look which a false continental marquis 
standing on his dignity might have envied, the domestic 
vouchsafed a few contemptuous syllables to the effect that the 
strange visitor had apparently mistaken his whereabouts. 

“ AlJons done !” interrupted the inspector, a little brutally. 

“ Do you tliink I donT know the servants' hall?” 

The astonished footman looked twice at the cut of the in- - 
specter's clothes. 


13G 


THE PASSENGEK FROM SCOtLAHD YARD. 


“ It^s a foreigner, Marotte/^ said he to the cook when he 
reached the kitchen; ‘‘ but where he conies from I can’t make 
out. Sometimes he speaks like a Marseillais, sometimes like 
a Swiss. The concierge must have told him that our peojile 
are at home, for he insists. What’s to be done with this card? 
Madame will be angry if I say the person is waiting while I 
take in it. ” 

You should not have allowed the person to wait. You 
had your orders, had you not?” 

‘‘Well, I don’t know how it happened, but he had a man- 
ner! Not a person of the best world, I should say; but still he 
had a manner — ” 

Marotte suggested that he should refer to the English maid, 
who had returned from her walk some time ago. Lydia Mur- 
doch betrayed some surprise at the sight of the superscription. 
It was impossible, however, for her to express any opinion, she 
commented. She could not say who the visitor might be. 
Thereupon the simple process familiar to the servants’ hall, 
as well as to the cabinet noir of certain governments, was 
neatly and expeditiously performed. 

It was his professional card that the inspector had inclosed 
within the envelope. The lines engraved upon it might have 
been Chaldaic writings for the eyes that now glanced over 
them — except for the eyes of Lydia Murdoch. For Lydia 
Murdoch they were assuredly full of significance. 

“You had better convey the card to mademoiselle,” she 
said, briefly. 

Inspector Byde waited with the utmost patience, the delay 
convincing him that the “ not at home ” was no more than 
the conveniently untrue formula of ordinary usage. If after 
this delay, he pondered, the “ not at home ” should be per- 
sisted in, despite the announcement of his visit in a professional 
capacity, there would be not a bad ground for assuming, just 
inferentially, that the original supposition was being con- 
firmed. 

The original supposition had been, had it not? that young 
Mr. Sinclair, formerly Mr. AYilmot’s private secretary, and 
suddenly dismissed a few months ago, was the actual thief in 
this matter of the diamonds, and that he had acted with some 
party, then unknown, whose office in the undertaking was to 
receive the property from him and to realize it. A vague sus- 
picion had fallen upon Remington, the circumstances of whose 
death might possibly be held to justify that suspicion. But 
it had also been on the cards that the abstracted property, not- 
withstanding its exceptional value, had been dispatched like a 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


137 


common parcel by Sinclair himself, or by some confederate, un- 
known, to an address in Paris, where it would be subsequently 
recovered. Now, he had learned through the wire that Sin- 
clair had been searched at Dover, and that the property had 
not been found upon him. Putting on one side for the mo- 
ment the murder of Mr. Remington in the night mail and the 
rifling of the breast-pocket — and the misdeed might, after all, 
have been fruitlessly committed — suppose that the original 
conjecture were the accurate one, and that the parcel had 
been forwarded in the simplest manner to the Miss Knollys, of 
No. 95 Avenue Marceau, to whom it had been Sinclair^’s first 
thought, after his arrest, to write? Improbable — ^because the 
superscription upon his letter gave the police the clew? Not 
in the least improbable! It was important for him to com- 
municate with the Avenue Marceau; was he not expected to 
arrive in Pjaris by the night mail ? A prompt telegram from 
him to the Paris address would of course attract attention; a 
letter might just possibly escape notice. The letter might be 
couched in perfectly commonplace terms, and yet might con- 
vey to its recipient both a warning and instructions. Or — it 
need not have been actually to his address that the parcel was 
consigned; it would be quite sufficient, for the theory, that the 
address to which the parcel had beep, consigned was known to 
some one here. But had this place the air of a receiver^’s 
premises? 

Judging by the apartment into which he had been ushered, 
the lady of the house must be in the enjoyment of considera- 
ble opulence. The vestibule, incumbered with evergreen 
plants and the few hardy bossoms of the season, had had the 
aspect of a carpeted conservatory as he passed through. The 
lofty apartment in which he was now seated reminded him of 
an antiquary^s cabinet as much as of anything else. Across 
the walls here and there hung portions of old Plunders 
tapestry, the adventures of Ixion, which they had once de- 
picted in tones warm and rich, having since become problemat- 
ical, owing to the ravages of moths, and to the decolorizations 
of time. A curious old cabinet, with little columns of lapis- 
lazuli, stood at one end of the room; and. a large Venetian 
mirror, with a frame of quaint carving, formed another con- 
spicuous ornament. The chairs were Louis Treize; and half a 
hundred smaller articles completed the main eflect. With 
dry logs blazing cheerfully on almost a bare hearth, it seemed 
a pity that the mantel-piece should mark the last quarter of the 
nineteenth century. 

From his contemplation pf this interior Mr. Inspector Byde 


138 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

was roused by the rca2)pcarance of the servant who had first 
answered his summons. Mile. Knollys had been slightly in- 
disposed since the j^revious evening, but would receive the gen- 
tleman whose card had been inclosed to her. The next min- 
ute Mr. Byde was shown into a luxurious drawing-room, and, 
as he entered, two ladies rose to their feet. Yes! they were 
the ladies who had visited the morgue. 

“ Miss Knollys?'’^ said the inspector, inquiringly. 

“ Any communication you may have to make to me may be 
freely made, in the presence of this lady, Mrs. Bertram, my 
friend, replied the younger of the two, in a low voice. 

“ My business relates to a matter which concerns yourself 
intimately, hazarded the inspector. “I have received the 
fullest information from London on the subject, but have 
deemed it only proper to place myself in direct communica- 
tion with you. Miss Knollys. I am aware that I have no right 
to intrude upon you here; I am here only by your courtesy. 
As you have been good enough to receive me, however, let me 
beg you, in your own interests, to facilitate, as far as you can 
do so, the inquiry I am engaged upon for Scotland Yard. My 
business relates to your acquaintance with Austin Wortley 
Sinclair, now ‘ want^ ^ by the police on a charge of diamond 
robbery. 

“ Mr. Sinclair must be the victim of an absurd mistake 
exclaimed the young lady. The whole occurrence is incon- 
ceivable! Mr. Sinclair is either the victim of a perfectly 
ridiculous blimder — a stupid, idiotic piece of misunderstand- 
ing — or else — she stopped and twisted her handkerchief nerv- 
ously — or else of heartless malice — the most cruel, cruel, 
vindictive malice 

She burst into tears. 

‘‘Oh, Adela! — my poor child murmured the elder lady, 
moving to her side. 

Adela? 

Mr. Inspector Byde repeated the syllables mentally two or 
three times, in the hope of lighting upon the diapason. The 
name seemed , to set some chord of his memory in vibration, 
but for the moment he could not single it out. “ Adelaide 
had been the name scrawled on the slip of paper found on the 
floor of the compartment occupied by the murdered man. 
That fact, however, had remained quite prominently before 
the inspector's mind, and it did not at all correspond to the 
faint reminiscence now abruptly evoked. Miss Adela Knollys 
— Adela — Adela? A pretty state of things, thought the in- 
spector, with a twinge of real alarm, if the very best of his 


THE PASSEHGEE FRO^t SCOTLAKD YARD. 139 

professional instruments, his memory, should he beginning to 
fail him! His countenance betrayed so acute an inward 
trouble that the lady of the house softened as she turned to 
speak to him, and her tone was milder than perhaps she had 
intended. 

“Is it absolutely necessary that you should put any ques- 
tions to Miss Knollys? She is not at all well, as you can see; 
is it absolutely necessary that you should torture her with 
questions?^^ 

“ I shall be sorry to cause the young lady any pain, and, if 
she wishes, the conversation can be deferred. I am entirely at 
your disposal; but — it might be better, it might be really bet- 
ter — ” 

“ You must call again, said Mrs. Bertram; “ I can not see 
the poor child persecuted in this way. At any rate, she shall 
not be persecuted in this gratuitous manner wliile she remains 
in my house, under my care. I don^t know hoAv my address 
came into your possession; and I am not at all sui’e that we 
are acting wisely in receiving you.^^ 

“ As you think best, madame,^^ returned the inspector, very, 
politely, and rising from the chair to "which he had been mo- 
tioned. A pause ensued. The hostess bent over the figure of 
the yoiing girl, who was weeping silently, and whispered some 
soothing words to her. The sincerity of this emotion and the 
charm of this feminine sympathy went to a soft place in the 
inspector's heart. He drew back a step or two, and then 
hesitated. “ When may I wait upon you again he asked, 
in a sepulchral voice, which, to tell the truth, was rather un- 
steady, and needed his short, dry cough at the close. 

“Oh, let this gentleman remain 1^^ said the young girl, 
speaking with her face averted, and with her hafidkerchief still 
pressed to her eyes. “ How weak of me to give way!"” 

“ Do you think you can bear it, dear?^'’ 

“ Yes — oh, yes! And he will tell me of — Oh, it is wicked 
of them — wicked, wicked !^^ 

“ It must be a mistake, said Mrs. Bertram, gently. 

She glanced toward the visitor and smiled. The inspector 
moved back to his chair, coughed agam somewhat huskily, 
and sat down. 

“ Tell me about Mr. Sinclair !^^ exclaimed the young gu’l, 
impulsively, dropping her handkerchief, and turning to face 
the gcRtleman from Scotland Yard. 

“ He is ‘ wanted," "" said Mr. Byde. 

“ What does that mean?"" 

“ ‘ Wanted " by the police, on the charge I told you of. "" 


140 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

“ Why, he wrote to us that he was in prison! He wrote to 
us from Dover. The police arrested him at the Dover rail- 
way-station. Did you not know that?^^ 

“ Oh, really — they have found him, have they? My in- 
formation is from London, and deals more particularly with 
tiie circumstances of the robbery. Ah, they have found him?^^ 
The professional habit of laying traps had been too much for 
Inspector Byde, and he had yielded to it, in spite of his sensi- 
bility of the minute before. However, he need not anticipate 
concealment in this instance, it seemed. There were no wiles 
to be combated. 

“Found him!’^ both ladies had the air of indignantly re- 
peating. “ Mr. Sinclair could have had no notion whatever 
that his whereabouts were being sought for,^-’ replied Mrs. 
Bertram; “ he was the last man to evade search or inquiry — 
the very last!'’^ 

“ Yes, indeed concurred Miss Knollys, warmly. 

“We received a letter from him last night. He wrote from 
Dover to say that on his way here by the night mail he had 
been arrested on an absurd charge of diamond robbery, and 
that, without wishing to alarm us, he was afraid from what he 
had been able to ascertain that appearances were somehow or 
other very strong against him, and might place him in an ex- 
tremely serious position. If we felt quite free to communicate 
some family matters to 3^ou, Mr. Byde, you would at once un- 
derstand the situation of great delicacy which an event of this 
kind creates for Miss Knollys.'’^ 

“ Dear Mrs. Bertram exclaimed the young girl, embracing 
her friend, enthusiastically, “ we know that we may count on 
you, and I am ungrateful to forget how much I myself owe to 
your kind aid. But I feel that my own position is nothing 
compared to the dreadful one into which poor Austin has been 
thrown — just at this moment, too! It must be very much 
more grave than we can imagine for him to have acknowl- 
edged to us that the affair was in the least degree serious. 
Poor fellow ! what a humiliation for him, and what a misfort- 
une — and just at this moment! Poor Austin !^^ 

A tear still sparkled upon the long eyelashes. The in- 
spector noted that the young lady began to twist her lace 
handkerchief again. He transferred his gaze to the nearest 
oil-painting on the walls, and studied with great intentness a 
blurred rainbow in the “ Passing Shower,"" treated unconven- 
tionally. When he ventured to look back, the symptoms had 
disappeared ajid the compressed lips were relaxing. It was 
ill- taste in him, reflected the inspector, to stare at Miss Knollys 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


141 


SO persistently. But as she sat there facing him, he did not 
think he could have seen in all his life a prettier picture than 
this fair-haired English girl, with her flushed cheeks, her frank 
and clear gray eyes, her dark, decided eyebrows, the chaste 
and sweet expression of her mouth. Trifles — trifles! — the in- 
spector's even judgment suddenly reminded his indulgent 
sense. Well, not exactly trifles, if you liked, but accidents of 
nature, not implying merit in the individual, and quite uncon- 
nected with considerations as to complicity in an indictable 
offense. Mrs. Byde had never been half so good looking as 
this young lady; but he would defy you to discover a truer 
heart and kinder nature, the whole world through, than Mrs. 
Byde’s. And then as to looks: 

“ Where’s the sense, direct and moral. 

That teeth are pearl, or lips are coral?” 


Mr. Byde, who loved to improve himself, had committed to 
memory this and other couplets out of “ The Progress of the 
Mind.^^ Come, come! Let us get back to the Wilmot 
case,^'’ urged Mr. Byde, mentally. 

“Pray excuse me, ladies, he resumed, “but my duty 
obliges me to address a direct question or two which you may 
look upon, at first sight, as unwarranted by the circumstances 
of my presence here. I have to ask Miss Knollys, to begin 
with, what is the nature of her acquaintance with Mr. Sin- 
clair?’^ 


The two ladies exchanged glances. 

“ Can I answer that,, do you think?” demanded Miss Knollys, 
a little timidly, of her friend. 

“ I should not answer it, my dear,” was the response. “ It 
can not possibly concern tliis gentleman, or this gentleman’s 
employers. ” 

“ What did you understand to be the object of Mr. Sin- 
clair’s journey to the Continent?” proceeded the visitor. 

“ He was coming here to enter upon an appointment as 
secretary which I had procured for him through private chan- 
nels,” replied Mrs. B^i’tram. 

“ And can you account for his haunting the Park Lane 
residence of Mr. Stanislas Wilmot for several nights previous 
to the robbery; for his disappearance immediately after the 
robbery, and for his attempt to get away to the Continent 
unnoticed by the night mail?” 

The ladies again exchanged glances, and a slight blush 


deepened the rose upon Miss Adela’s cheeks, 
can perhaps account for Mr. Sinclair’ 


s being frequently 


142 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

in the neighborhood of Mr. Wilmoths house/^ she said, after 
some embarrassment and with the suggestion of a shy smile; 

but if he ‘ disappeared/ as - you state, it was most likely be- 
fore the robbery, not afterward. I can not imagine that he 
could have the least apjoearance of desiring to leave England 
unperceived; and the train he traveled by had been selected, 
not by himself, but by me.^^ 

‘‘ I must now ask whether you are acquainted in any way 
with the owner of the stolen property, Mr. Stanislas Wilmot?'’-’ 
Mr. Wilmot is my relative and my guardian, replied the 
young lady. 

Adela! Of course! He found the chord now, though not 
the full diapason. The dead man, Eemington, had pro- 
nounced the name when relating to his fellow-passengers cer- 
tain details in the mysterious diamond robbery at the Park 
Lane , house. Eemington had told them that old Stanislas 
Wilmot lived there with his niece. Miss Adela. How was he, 
Byde, to know of any differenqe in the surnames? Sergeant 
Bell had omitted to furnish him with this point either when 
he, Byde, huxi’iedly took up the case, or through th4 post 
since. Such negligence was perfectly disgusting. How could 
he make progress if the whole of the facts were not reported 
to him?' And suppose he had drifted into a blunder? It was 
ever so. You did your best, and half the time you were ham- 
pered by others. You were at the mercy of some careless or 
conceited subordinate, who either had not the faculty for pick- 
ing up little points or else discriminated for himself very sage- 
ly among the details, and left out whatever it might please him 
to consider unimiDortant — as if in their business there were any 
such things as unimportant details! Who could say upon 
what ostensibly insignificant item an investigation might not 
turn! The door and the door- way might be in the same ma- 
terial; might be more or less massive, and might be hi contact 
or out of it; but they were separate objects, requiring for their 
absolute corelation, you might say, the hinge; and the hinge 
was nearly always in a different sufetance, of bulk insignificant 
as compared with the two objects it connected. What might 
be the other valueless matters, he wondered, which Sergeant 
Bell had omitted to report to him? 

It was in this way that the best of officers might be sent off 
on wrong tacks, and possibly forfeit their reputations. Had 
it been his own fault in the great temperance scandal that — 
Well, well! we should see! And they should see, also, those 
temperance people, who since that affair had never been able 
to let him alone in their snarling and canting newspaper. He 


THE PASSE-NTGER FROM SCOTrANI) YARD. 143 

knew well enough certain members of the flock whose goings- 
on — Well, well! time would show. For the present the in- 
spector's thoughts reverted grimly to the case of Brother 
Neel. 

‘‘ Miss Knollys has usually been spoken of as the niece of 
Mr. Wilmot," remarked the hostess. That is not their re- 
lationship. Nor was she a poor relation of his wife's, as he 
appears to have given out. He was a cousin of her mother's, 
and had always managed her mother's investments. Mr. 
Wilmot is a very clever man; and her mother named him in 
her will as Adela's guardian, and left everything in his hands. 
So like her, that was!" added Mis. Bertram, with a dejirecat- 
ing little smile to Miss Knollys — “ so like your poor mother, 
my dear. She trusted every one, and was utterly thoughtless 
in all her own money matters. I don't believe she had the , 
slightest notion as to the extent of her means when your fa- 
ther's fatal accident left her so suddenly a widow. Stanislas 
Wilmot offered his assistance — most generously, she said: a 
little too eagerly, I thought myself — and in the end she allowed 
liim to dispose of everything. It always struck me that he had 
contrived the quarrel between your poor mother and her hus- 
band's family, although, to be sure, they were a disagreeable, 
tuft-hunting set. Her own brother showed the very greatest 
promise, but he died, as you know, in India, when you were a 
very little girl. As for her two elder sisters, your Aunts 
Eglantine and Ameha, they have always been the most frivol- 
ous creatures in the world, and the last time I saw them — you 
will forgive me for saying so, my dear — I really thought that 
they were the silliest women of their age I had ever, ever 
met." 

They are certainly very helpless," acquiesced Miss 
Knollys; and I am afraid it is no more than the truth to 
add that they are rather selfish and unkind. It was hard to 
tliink that I could not look to them for aid in my difficult 
position." 

So that Mr. Wilmot has been able to dispose of the money 
matters exactly as he liked. And I always thought, you 
know, Adela, that he intended to dispose of you, likewise!" 

Miss Knollys made no answer. 

Well, Heaven knows what may be the condition of your 
affairs — whether you have a farthing or a fortune!" 

Oh, I have felt so glad, so delighted, to be away from him 
that I would have relinquished all I may be entitled to, if 
there is anything, for the mere sake of never seeing Him again 


144 THE PABSEHGEE FEOM SCOTLAND TAED. 

and never hearing from him. Austin would not like me to 
accept anything either — I know he would not."’"’ 

That is all nonsense, dear! You are entitled to what is 
your own, and in the spring, when you come of age, your 
guardian will have to give it up. Whether he likes it or not, 
he will be bound to make a full restitution of what belongs to 
you."" 

“ But suppose he has spent it?"" asked the young girl, in- 
nocently. 

‘‘ Oh, well, if he has spent it — I don"t know — of course he 
can not restore to you what he hasn"t got of yours — if he has 
spent it — I don"t know — of course — "" 

“ Prosecute him for misappropriation of trust funds,"" put 
in the inspector, deeply interested. 

‘‘ Yes, evidently that would be the proper course to fol- 
low,"" assented Mrs. Bertram; you would prosecute him for 
misap23ropriation of trust funds. Take proceedings against 
him. He deserves it!"" 

“ Oh, no! — oh, no! Let him rest, if he is satisfied with his 
dishonesty. Xliei’e may be nothing after all, and if he says 
there is nothing, let us drop the matter and never mention his 
name again. I am too thankful to have escaped — for I call it 
an escape. But we are wearying Mr. Byde with all this?"" 

‘‘ On the contrary,"" protested that gentleman, these mat- 
ters are all pertinent to the inquiry. Allow me to demon- 
strate. Suppose that A. B., trustee of the estate of 0. D., a 
minor, has misapplied the moneys of the said 0. D. A^ou fol- 
low me?’" 

“ Oh, quite!"" said Mrs. Bertram, frowning with her mental 
effort to pursue the abstract relations of A. B. and 0. D . — 
‘‘ Perfectly!"" 

“ And suppose that A. B., on the approach of 0. D."s ma- 
jority, fears that, on 0. D."s behalf, it may be demanded of 
him to render an account of C. D. "s estate, and that in antici- 
pation he pretends to make exceptional, honest, but unfort- 
unate, investments of certain of moneys. You follow me?"" 

“ Entirely,"" said Mrs. Bertram. 

“And su23pose that A. B., speculating in precious stones, 
makes a plunge on diamonds, in the ostensible interests of 
0. L). "s estate, to the extent of £20,000. Suppose these dia- 
monds, purchased for the estate of 0. D., are abstracted from 
his cust(ily and never traced. 0. D. may subsequently render 
the position of A. B. somewhat unj^leasant, if so minded; but 
A. B. may be judged to have acted in good faith, and 0. D. 
may for various reasons let the matter dro23. Now, then, we 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 145 

have only to suppose that A. B. never did lay out the moneys ‘ 
of C. D. in diamonds to the extent of £ 20 , 6 ^ 0 , and it would 
result; — I bog pardon, but — you follow me?^-’ 

Quite well/^ said Mrs. Bertram. 

It Avould result — that the diamonds never were stolen at 
all. If we suppose A. B. to be Stanislas Wilmot, Esq., and 
C. D. to be Miss Adela Knollys, his ward, we then arrive at 
the conclusion that the Wilmot (Park Lane) case, with regard 
to which I have ventured to present myself, ladies, and upon 
which I have been specially commissioned from Scotland Yard, 
is neither more nor less than — iion-exisfcent.'’^ 

‘‘ Then you will tell them to set free Mr. Sinclair at once?^^ 
demanded the younger lady, with great promptitude. 

“ There might be a case for letting him out on bail,^^ re- 
plied the inspector; ‘^lis own and other recognizances, to a 
substantial amount. But I canT say what they may have 
’ gathered, in the way of corroborative testimony, at the other 
end. 

‘‘ Oh, how unjust the law is!^^ exclaimed Miss Knollys. “ I 
would not be a lawyer for anything, if I were a man!’’’’ 

Well, you see — began the inspector. 

‘‘ Unjust and stupid, the law is!^^ reiterated Miss Knollys, 
her color heightening again. 

‘‘ Why should Mr. Sinclair have been indicated to the 
police? We were bound to take notice of the information laid 
with us.^'’ 

‘‘ And who laid the information?^^ inquired Mrs. Bertram. 

Stanislas Wilmot, Esq.,” replied the visitor. 

‘‘Just as I thought!^^ exclaimed Miss Knollys to the elder 
lady. “ Did I not tell you so? Malice — wicked, vindictive, 
designing malice 

“ May I question you as to the occasion of Mr. Sinclair’s 
departure from the employment of your guardian three months 
ago?” asked Mr. Byde. 

Miss Knollys consulted her friend with a regard. The host- 
ess answered with an expression which seemed to convey — 
“ Well, do as you like, my dear, but I should not tell this 
strange man all my personal affairs. ” The signals, believed 
to be imperceptible, continued. 

Divining, as men of the world usually do divine, the code in 
that feminine telegraphy by wliich the fair operators fondly 
imagine they conceal their interchange of impressions from the 
other sex, Mr. Byde went on to say that the position of Austin 
-Wortley Sinclair “ might be injuriously affected by circum- 
stances attendant upon his dismissal a few months before. ” If 


14G THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND A'ARD. 

he had been suspected of malpractices, for instance, or de- 
tected in suspicious company : indeed, worse than that might 
have happened. * 

“ You see,^" pursued Mr. Byde, “ the case for Mr. Wilmot 
is that the property was abstracted from his strong-room dur- 
ing the night, and that the locks must have been opened with 
duplicate keys. His keys had not been out of his possession 
for some time previously, and certainly not while this property 
was lying in the strong-room of the Park Lane residence; but 
he did once mislay them while Mr. Sinclair was in his employ- 
ment as private secretary. Now, if Mr. Sinclair is accused of 
taking away certain keys, in order to have patterns made of 
them, that will form an awkward accusation to rebut. When 
we know why he quitted Mr. Sinclair's employment — 

“ He went away because of unwarrantable freedom on the 
part of Mr. Wilmot,'’ ' interrupted the young girl, haughtily. 
“ Oh, you shall hear the story 
AdelaP^ 

“ On second thoughts, no, not the entire edifying story; but 
you shall learn what you wish to know. Mr. Sinclair was 
taunted by my, guardian with endeavoring to involve me in an 
engagement to him, for the purpose of obtaining the control 
of my fortune — an imaginary fortune, he added, in his gracious 
manner. In the same breath he said he should dismiss him at 
once; but that was of course needless, for Mr. Sinclair would 
not have remained another moment in his house. The entire 
rupture did not occupy more than a few minutes. Mr. Sin- 
clair had no opportunity of communicating with me, and from 
that day I became, without guessing it, almost Mr. Wilmoths 
prisoner. Mr. Sinclair would not descend to anything clan- 
destine, and the letters which it seems he sent through the post 
to me were intercepted. His sudden departure was misrepre- 
sented, and I was condemned to listen to calumny upon 
calumny. Mr. Wilmot had other views for me, I understood 
later — other views!” She blushed once more — partly with 
anger, perhaps. 

“ You eventually met Mr. Sinclair again?” 

‘‘ Mr. Sinclair guessed the reason of my silence, and at 
length made a call at our house. He timed his visit expressly 
for an hour when my guardian was usually at home. Mr. 
Wilmot refused to receive him, and forbade me to enter into 
any communication with him. Any such prohibition being 
tyrannical nonsense, I declined utterly to observe it. It has 
been due to myself that Austin Wortley Sinclair, as you think 
fit to speak of him, thenceforward occasionally ‘ haunted ^ the 


THE PASSEKGEE FROil SCOTLAND YARD. 


147 


Park Lane residence of Mr. Stanislas Wilmot — poor fellow! 
The concealment we were obliged to observe formed an addi- 
tional humiliation for him. He had been already insulted; he 
was in poverty and without prospects for the time; and if I 
had not assured him I should never change, I think he would 
have gone away forever. What gave him courage, however, 
was the statement by my guardian that I was absolutely penni- 
less. 

Mr. Byde stared at the young lady with a surprise that was 
largely mingled with admiration. 

“ And it is owing to you, dear, dear Mrs. Bertram, con- 
tinued the young lady, with a grateful outburst, “ that we 
should have been extricated from our embarrassments, if tliis 
horrible affair had not occurred. Austin will be set at liberty 
very soon — that is one consolation — but thiuk how he will feel 
the stigma 

“ Mr. Sinclair's appointment here — asked the visitor — 

will he lose it through this case, in the event of his innocence 
being proved?'’^ 

His prospects shall not suffer, replied Mrs. Bertram, 
dryly; “ I have sufficient influence to insure that. Are there 
any further questions you would wish to ask?^^ 

One — does Miss Knollys identify the man whose corpse lies 
at the morgue 

It was the young lady^s turn to exhibit surprise. 

“ Yes,'’’ she answered, slowly, with a slight tremor; “I 
recognize the dead man. It is Mr. Eemington, one of the 
business people employed by my guardian. You saw us, per- 
haps, at the morgue yesterday afternoon? We had read the 
news of that murder in the night mail from London, and in 
the absence of any message up to that moment from Mr. Sin- 
clair, whom we had expected by the same train, I feared that 
the victim might be he. Mr. Remington made periodical 
journeys to Paris for the purposes of his business, and had oc- 
casionally brought us a trifling souvenir. He was well ac- 
quainted with the arrangements of our house, and might have 
been of the greatest usefulness to Mr. Sinclair just now. It 
v/as very shocking to find that the victim was the Mr. Reming- 
ton whom we were accustomed to see so often at home. Poor 
Mr. Remington! — to die in that manner — murdered!” 

“ I preferred that Miss Knollys, residing in my house,” ob- 
served Mrs. Bertram, ‘‘ should leave others to formally declare 
the identity of this unfortunate man. Ko doubt, in a day or 
two, all that will have been settled. ” 

Mr. Inspector Byde rose to depart. Another word, if I 


148 


THE PASSENGEB FBOM SCOTLAND YAKD. 


may be permitted/^ he said; “ Miss Knollys expressed the 
conviction that Mr. Sinclair’s sudden disappearance from the 
vicinity of the Park Lane house must have been prior to the 
robbery, if there was a robbery, not afterward. That might 
lead up to a good alibi. Was the opinion based upon any fact 
within her own cognizance.^ 

“ It was based upon this fact, ’’replied Mrs. Bertram, “ that 
she herself disappeared from Mr. Wilmot’s house prior to the 
date of the alleged robbery. There was no other attraction 
for Mr. Sinclair in the Park Lane establishment. Miss Knollys 
had found that any longer residence with her guardian would 
be unbearable, and I have been happy to place my own house 
at her disposition for any length of time. We desire particu- 
larly that her whereabouts may not be known to Mr. Wilmot 
for the present. He was well aware that Mr. Sinclair was 
proceeding to some continental appointment, and, when he 
found that his ward had escaped from him, may have con- 
jectured that she had intended to join him abroad. There are 
ridiculous provisions in her poor, weak mother’s last will which 
place him in a position of quite arbitrary control, so long as 
his ward remains a minor — that is to say, unless she chooses to 
abandon the greater part of whatever may be her fortune. 
Now, I insist upon her sacrificing nothing. Who would bene- 
fit by it, to begin with? Stanislas Wilmot, who most probably 
had the will drawn up. I feel persuaded that the pro23erty 
left by her mother was very considerable. I dare say Mr. 
Stanislas Wilmot had his own private reasons for causing the 
aj^prehension, and, if possible, for securing the imprisonment 
of his ward’s fiance ; for he must have discovered or suspected 
that they were affianced. But my sohcitor shall take charge 
of Miss Kno^s’s interests.” 

“ This Mr. Wilmot seems to be quite the ^ wicked uncle,’ ” 
observed Mr. Byde, facetiously, as he dandled his hat prepara- 
tory to taking his leave. “We shall have to ask him for an 
exact description of the diamonds, and for some particulars as 
to their purchase; the name of the firm, whether British or 
foreign, from which they passed into his hands. With stones 
of great value, such as these, every precaution must have been 
taken in the trade. Perhaps there was a diamond robbery, 
perhaps not. But before we could convict any man upon a 
circumstantial case, we should want strong evidence about the 
identity of the stones. I will wire the Yard to look the point 
ujD without delay. ” 

“ Mr. Wilmot is a very clever man,” repeated the hostess, 
reconducting her visitor. 


THE PASSENGER PROM SCOTLAND YARD. 149 

“He is well known in the city/^ said Miss Knollys, with 
some awe. 

“ He goes behind the scenes/^ added the hostess. 

“He knows Lord Alfred Edgbaston very well, and Major 
Chase, the equerry -in- waiting, remarked Miss Knollys. 
“ They go to Kichmond together, and sometimes Prince Eg- 
bert Eudolph goes with them, incognito,^ ^ 

“ To look at the sunset from the hill, no doubt comment- 
ed Mrs. Bertram, sarcastically. 

“ Yes, you get a beautiful view of the sunset from the hill,^^ 
observed the young girl. “ But I thought that no one went 
to Richmond, now; and yet they go constantly! Lord Henry 
Exbore, who is another of Mr. Wilmoths friends, and owes him 
a great deal of money, goes there too, sometimes — to study the 
industrial English-American excursionists, he told me one 
evening, when he dined at our house. What a charming view 
you get of the sunset from the hill, do you not, Mr. Byde?^^ 
She spoke quite cheerfully now, and beamed upon the inspector 
with gratitude: a sentiment which a satirist has not ill-defined. 

“ A very nice view,^^ said the inspector, with his countenance 
curiously puckered. Had he not come across old Exbore there 
himself — old Exbore with his dyed mustache and vinous mirth 
— studying the industrial English-American excursionists with 
one eye, and with the other (his lordship squinted) contemplat- 
ing in mute ecstasy the gorgeous sunset? Did he not remem- 
ber what the manageress of the Purple Peacock (a fine woman) 
told liim as to that .Hexbore lot as come down of a week-day 
and bribed the waiters to inform them Yankees, quite acci- 
dental-like, as how their lordships was present, and which they 
was? The manageress didnT half like to have their lordships 
using her house; it got her a bad name. She objected to see 
her well-trimmed gardens and her spacious dining-hall turned 
into a sort of show-ground for broken-down swells who ran up 
long accounts. If that old Edgbaston and that young Claude 
Beechamtre broke any more chairs she should call in the police, 
tlTe manageress had said. 'Let them go somewhere else and 
fish with their titles for these wealthy transatlantic prowlers — 
the artless widow and the “hartful young American miss.'’^ 
The last time the inspector had seen old Exbore at his Rich- 
mond post his lordship was entertaining a sporting journalist, 
a circus clown (at that time out of an engagement), and a 
jDugilist who had just won a fight at catch- weight for £100 a 
sicj^. His lordship^’s other guests seemed very charming girls, 
with a great flow of spirits when the waiters were out of the 
room. Two or three of them, who had been gayly singing 


150 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

snatclies of their choruses in the new burlesque, had unfortu- 
nately to leave for the theater at an early hour. As they passed 
him on their way down-stairs the inspector had seen their sweet 
and carmined lips curled with disparagement of their enter- 
tainer; and the language in which they summed up liis lord- 
ship^s peculiarities, both moral and physical, included the op- 
probrious epithets which, known in the highest as well as the 
lowest society, and not always wliispered, have never yet — the 
gods be praised! — infected' the vocabulary of printers or their 
devils, and are uniformly conveyed to the sagacious reader, 

therefore, by the symbol Lord Henry Exbore had 

received his rents that week, and was meiTy. He had once 
been discovered by the inspector in an inavowable sphere, and 
had since then cultivated the inspector's friendship anxiously. 
On the last occasion of their meeting Lord Henry had called, 
to the inspector from the balcony of the Purple Peacock, to 
insist upon his joining the party. He had then privately an- 
nounced to Mr. Byde his approaching imion with a colossal 
New York fortune — grains and cotton — of Seven Hundred 
and Ninety 'First Avenue — the lovely Miss Virginia Wattle, 
presented at court in the previous month. When the inspector 
sat down with his fellow-guests, to a nip of Chartreuse and a 
grand cigar, their noble entertainer had assured the beauteous 
vision in white muslm skirts and black, tight-fitting velvet 
bodice, who occupied the place next to his own, that, bewitch- 
ing as she had showed herself in the Christmas pantomime, 
and deeply as he should always adore her, he respected the 
new-comer far more highly, and to oblige him would go fur- 
ther out of his way. I don’t believe you, that I don’t!” had 
playfully responded the vision, tapping his lordship’s wrinkled 
knuckles with her fan, and ogling the circus artist. The in- 
spector believed his lordship, though! As he was now being 
slowly escorted by Mrs. Bertram and Miss Knollys, the whole 
scene flashed vividly through his mind. And what good feat- 
ures that young circus clown had, he remembered; and what 
an athletic young fellow he was; and how cleverly he per- 
formed in the arena with his educated pig! 

‘‘ If fellows like Exbore, and Edgbaston, and Chase — 
Euchre ” Chase, as he was called in Jermyn Street — were 
Wilmot’s associates, the inspector fancied he could class him 
easily. The description of the missing valuables would have to 
be exact, indeed; and there must be full particulars provided 
as to the circumstances of their purchase. « 

“We shall be very glad to see you whenever you like to 
call,” said the hostess. 


THE PASSENGER FROit SCOTLAND YARD. 


151 


You will do your best, will you uot?^'’ added tlie younger 
lady, with an imploring voice and an appealing smile. Do 
your very best, Mr. Byde! Our happiness depends upon you.’^ 

The visitor gone, Mrs. Bertram chided her companion for 
the indifference she had displayed with respect to her real and 
personal estate. ‘‘ Well,^^ replied the young#lady, ‘‘ the fact 
is, Austin would not like me to have money. You will say I 
am credulous, perhaps — but I know him so well ! He would 
think that it humiliated liim. 

‘‘ You are a couple of children, if you talk like that,^^ pro- 
nounced the woman of the world. “And pray why should 
you consent to occupy the position of a burden? Do you think 
that would be dignified? Especially when he would be labor- 
ing hard to keep up appearances, and to make both ends 
meet!'’'’ 

“ That is true,^^ answered Miss Knollys pensively, after a 
pause. “ It would not be fair that I should bring him noth- 
ing!” 

So that the inspector, on the whole not discontented with 
the outcome of his visit, was departing from the Avenue Mar- 
ceau without having once perceived the lady’s-maid, Lydia 
Murdoch. Had he encountered that imperial creatm-e, had 
his regard touched for but a second the pale face and the won- 
drous eyes wliich had arrested, not invited, the gallant ad- 
vances of the not ordinarily repressible Toppin, the inspector 
must assuredly have recognized Miss Murdoch. It was In- 
spector Byde who had reported upon the stranger aspects of 
the great scandal in Mayfair — the “ scandal in high life '” which 
had ended so disastrously for a valetudinarian hidalgo. Do we 
not remember the sensational divorce case — the letters that 
were read — the verses that were produced, copied upon vellum, 
stamped with a coat of arms, and signed “ Montmorency 
Vane ”? Do we not remember that the respondent had been 
a Miss Estelle Evelin Oakum, the “ belle ” of Boston, who, to 
espouse the noble Spaniard, had thrown over the Presbyterian 
auctioneer that afterward committed suicide!’ And had not 
Montmorency Vane turned out to be Vine, alias Grainger? 
The respondent in the Mayfair divorce case had discovered too 
late that her own maid formed the veritable attraction for the 
patrician Vane, and that, so far as she herself was concerned, 
“ her purse, not her person,’'’ had been the object of his siege. 
The maid was Lydia Murdoch, now in her second place since 
the sensational divorce suit. Inspector Byde would have recog- 
nized her immediately; and if he had known that she had left 
a letter at the yosta restante that morning for one Grenville 


152 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

Montague Vyne^ he would no doubt have been led to the con- 
clusion that Miss Murdoch still kept up secret correspondence 
with one Vine, alias Grainger, hiding at the present time in 
Paris — and “ wanted. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

Erom the Avenue Marceau the inspector bent his steps in 
the direction of Mr. Bingham^s office. The card which had 
been left with him by that gentleman, when the latter request- 
ed the inspector to give him a call, contained the remarkable 
information that the Vicomte de Bingham, of the Rue des 
Petits Champs, No. 4 bis, was an Agent pour Us Assur- 
ances,’^ and an Aclieteur de creances a V Etranger.’^ Amaz- 
ing! commented the inspector, as he again consulted the card. 

At the number indicated in the Rue des Petits Champs, he 
found that his old friend Byers, the receiver, was in excellent 
repute in the concierge^’s lodge, not only as a man of business 
with extensive dealings abroad, but as an English noble of 
illustrious lineage if unfortunate career. What a wonderful 
fellow he was, old Ben Byers, mused the inspector — what a 
wonderful old boy! It was a deuced suspicious circumstance 
that he should have referred so pointedly to Brother Neel. 

“ Well, he has picked out a business quarter for his opera- 
tions, whatever they may be,^^ thought the inspector — and„ 
by George, he’s quite capable of entering into business, bond 
fide, and of making money at it!” On the ground-floor stood 
the show-rooms of an ostrich-feather importer, and the count- 
ing-house of an agent for the “ Delectable ” sewing-machines, 
extremely cheap, and made in Germany. At the end of the 
wide passage — the door opposite the staircase — you perceived 
the entrance to the workshop of the new platinum piano; 
while across the yard, around a window well lighted by re- 
flectors, a bevy of young girls employed in Mme. Truffiere’s 
artificial flower factory could be seen, pallid and laborious, 
bending over the foci of irritant poisons which necessarily per- 
nieated the air they breathed. Upstairs, on the first-floor, the 
inspector found himself confronted by a dentist’s show-case. 
'J'o the left lay thp dentist’s rooms. To the right lay the 
offices of ‘‘ M. de Bingham, Agent pour les Assurances ” etc. 
On the second, third, and fourth-floors were other business 
premises. A cane-seated bench, much out of repair, and very 
dusty, stood against the wall. 

It was the unpretentious aspect of the vicomte’s quarters 
that impressed Inspector Byde. He would be hanged if the 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 153 

whole thing didn^t look bond fide, repeated Mr. Bingham^s old 
acquaintance. “ Insurance and General Foreign Agent/ ^ he 
read in English on the door facing the bright silver plate and 
regal bell-rope of M. Melliflu, Dentiste Lyonnais. But the 
vicomte formed a suspicious feature. And yet the commer- 
cial methods of all countries did not run upon identical lines. 
Half the routine of a business man consists of asking for some 
one thing or another, thought Mr. Byde; and in a republic it 
was quite natural that advantages should flow rather toward 
the solicitant armed with the symbols or the semblances of 
rank. 

He pushed at Mr. Bingham’s office door. It appeared to 
have been hung in such a way as to swing easily upon its 
hinges; but it would not open. He pushed again. This time 
he heard again the faintest tremor possible of an electric bell 
— a sound which was gone before he could say he had seized it 
— a tiny vibration which, as a full-blooded man, Mr. Byde 
might have put down to a “ singing in the ears ” — a warning 
signal which at first he had not been quite sure that he de- 
tected. 

He waited, but the door did not open. The inspector then 
observed a square ivory button in a small recess at the side of 
Mr. Bingham’s door. A neat brass plate invited callers to 
“Turn the button, s.v.p.” The inspector twisted the ivory 
button, and quite a loud, honest, reassuring, bell-like note at 
once rang out. What could it have been that thereupon 
brought a smile to the inspector’s countenance. 

Mr. Bingham’s office door unlatched with an abrupt jerk. 
The visitor stepped across the threshold, but a high partition 
shut off his view of the interior. He had just entered in time 
to catch the dull bang of — apparently — a mahogany drawer, 
sharply closed. Footsteps resounded on a polished floor, and 
the pink, pear-shaped visage of Grandpa, with the short strip 
of white whisker on each cheek, then appeared round the edge 
of the partition. 

“ I beg pardon, sir,” said the inspector, assuming an air of 
innocent inquiry — “ the Vicomte de Bingham — might he hap- 
pen to be about 

“ Sir,” replied Mr. Bingham, in a corresponding vein, 
“ that good old man is not — and I regret the circumstance — 
at this present moment in the immediate neighborhood. The 
vicomte, sir, has been summoned by the ruler of a friendly 
power, the admirer at a distance of his talents (not to say 
genius), and of his numerous (not to say innumerable) phil- 
anthropic, solemn and valuable (not to say invaluable) sacrifices, 


154 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


enterprises, and achievements, to resign himself to that whi(?h 
in the case of any other personage, it mattereth not how emi- 
nent, would constitute a dignity, favor, or recompense — to 
undergo, videlicet, the form and ceremonial of a state investi- 
ture with the most ancient Order of Merit at the disposal of 
his most gracious and alien majesty. The vicomte is an aged 
man — but rare, sir, most rare I 

“ I have come a long way to see the vicomte. ITl step in- 
side and wait for his return. 

‘‘Pray, sir, step in! Step in, sir, and make yourself at 
home! I am his little boy. 

“What! — Benjamin?^^ 

“ The same, sir; Benjamin, Josephus brother, whom Jacob 
sent not with his brethren; for he said: ‘ Lest peradventure 
mischief befall him • — strangely resembling one who had been 
sometimes called Old Ben Byers — 

“ ‘ Innocent Ben, gentlemen of the jury; never convicted 
hitherto, but always guilty!^ 

“ ‘ As your lordship pleases!^ Mr. Bingham shut the door 
and affably escorted his visitor to the other side of the parti- 
tion. 

“ A d d strange move this, Benny, old boy! What^s 

the meaning of it all?^^ The inspector surveyed the business 
premises of Mr. Bingham, and made clucking noises with his 
tongue. 

“ ‘ The meaning of it Ha! Scotland Yard spoke there. 
It means, grave and reverend Byde, that this is the hive of 
the bee — the honey-stored hive of the busy, busy bee! Sit 
down, my boy; glad to see you! Take that arm-chair; and if 
you care for a good cigar — there '’s something contraband.’^ 
He pushed a box over the table. 

Mr. Byde sunk into the seat indicated. He found that it 
placed him in the full light of the window, and with his back 
to the door. Mr. Bingham took the seat opposite. The table 
which separated them was a sort of half bureau, in mahogany. 
On the right and left hand of Mr. Bingham, who appeared to 
have‘ installed himself in his habitual place, rows of drawers 
extended from the level of the table downward to the ground. 
“ Ah, we work hard,” proceeded the host. “ The insurance 
business is about half developed in this country. But we do 
our best to teach them. We try to rescue the public from the 
perils of their own thriftlessness. Within these walls we in- 
dite the flowing phrase; within these walls we bid the quarter- 
ly commission a hearty welcome!” 

“ We?” 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 155 

“ Myself and sleeping partner. Clerks? Oh^, yes, we keejD 
a staff of clerks — two; and their desks are in that inner room. 
One, however, I have just dismissed. The rascal was robbing 
me. The other is a very gentlemanly youth — out just now — 
confided to me with a premium by his widowed, mother, who 
desired to have her son instructed in English ways of business 
and in the English language. Touching — these maternal am- 
bitions and this trust. Lucky the good lady fell into my 
hands ! There are scoundrels about who would have fleeced 
her without mercy; and the premium came in just at 'a con- 
venient moment. Pretty good premium — and paid down on 
the nail. The young man writes my letters for me and helps 
me with the French clients. I have sent him off with a fire- 
policy, to the other side of Paris. He likes going out. He 
neednT come back at all, unless he likes. One or two more of 
them, with even bigger premiums, would not do the business 
any harm!^^ 

Nothing in that, I suppose remarked the inspector, 
nodding in the direction of a massive safe. 

“ Nothing whatever, acquiesced his host. “ Obliged to 
keep it there, though. Looks well: gives people confidence. 
Oh, we bank all our money at once! AVouldnT do to keep it 
on the premises. Risk too great. Lot of rogues about. 
D d strange thing that you canT trust your fellow-creat- 

ures!’^ 

“ And so you have other little irons in the fire besides insur- 
ance?’’ 

Yes, yes — yes, yes! — take a glass of malaga?” 

The visitor objected that it was too early in the afternoon. 
AVhile Mr. Bingham helped himself from a buffet that looked . 
like a book-case, and chatted about reviving trade, the in- 
spector took further mental notes of the spacious interior. 
His eye appraised the elegantly uj^holstered chairs, fauteuils, 
and couch, the pictures on the walls, the buffet — every article 
of furniture. On one of the ebony-fluted columns rested a 
marble bust of the first Napoleon; on another, a bronze figure 
of Gambetta. Some common vases on the mantel-piece were 
filled with fresh flowers; brackets in the angles of the room 
and a handsome Uagh'e supported ornaments more suitable 
to a private residence than to business offices. The room had 
no distinctive character; the large safe, however, seemed out 
of place in it. The gilt-framed mirror which rose from the 
black marble mantel-piece to the cornice reflected the wheels 
and pendulum of the clock, seen through the sheet of glass 
fitted into its rear. Likewise reflected in the mirror were a 


156 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

pair of goldsmith’s scales, which had been pushed behind a 
small equestrian figure in oxidized iron. The inspector’s rov- 
ing eye took in this detail, and then transferred its scrutiny to 
the closed doors wliich apparently communicated with apart- 
ments beyond. 

“ The London evening papers of last night had telegrams 
about this murder of an Englishman,” said Mr. Byde. I 
saw one this morning at the hotel. Their correspondents here 
would wire the news, I suppose?” 

“Something of the sort,” replied his host. “Wonderful 
thing the press! — pioneer of progress — ^bulwark of freedom — 
Argus, of the Hundred Eyes — Eumor, painted with many 
tongues — wonderful thing! Try a glass of madeira. 'No? 
Marvelous institution, sir, the modern newspaper press! The 
trumpet of the law, the sentinel of order, the sleuth-hound 
auxiliary of retributive justice!” 

“Ah, that’s more in the old vein, Benjamin,” remarked 
the inspector, tranquilly. “ Thought you had lost it, when 
you came to see me. Lord, how we used to love to hear you 
conducting your own case! You ought to Jiave done better 
things, Benjamin, with the education you’ve had. I recollect 
a swell witness telling us once that he was a pupil with you at 
a private college, and that you carried away all the prizes when 
you liked to try. He told us you began hfe as a master in a 
cathedral town grammar-school. You were a better criminal 
lawyer than a great many of the managing clerks, and, as we 
know, the managing clerks are often better posted in their law 
than the principals. You could always make a fine speech to 
the jury, cross-examine a witness, or argue on a point. And 
as for Avriting an indignant letter to the newspapers, I never 
did see your equal, Benjamin! And, what? All your early 
advantages have been wasted. I recollect that witness telling 
us — he was a J. P. of his county, too! — that you knew more 
Greek than any one at the college, not excepting any of the 
masters, and that you could write an essay better than the ex- 
aminers. ” 

“Ha! ha! Hot very difficult, that — friend Byde! The 
essays of school examiners — ha! ha! ha!” 

“ And mathematics! — you must have got very much further 
on in them than my boy! Well, what have you done with it 
all? A man of your abilities, Benjamin, and with the educa- 
tion you started with, might have taken to writing for the 
press — and by this time — who knows? — with industry, good 
health, sobriety, providence, and luck — ” 

“ The press!” Mr. Bingham, who was refilling his own 


THE PASSEKGER EROM SCOTLAND YARD. 157 

glass, spilled the -vvine upon the table, as he stared at his visitor 
with astonishment. “ 1^11 tell you where — or, rather, what — 
I should be now, Byde, if I had been deluded by the dream 
wliich led away the only friend I ever had, and that was in my 
youth. These trifles you have just referred to come to my 
ears now with a strange sound. I studiously forgot them long 
ago. But if you speak of journalism, ITl tell you what I 
should be at this present time of day if I had had your own 
abilities as well as mine, together with the abilities of half a 
dozen school-masters and the capacity of two secretaries of 
state. I should be a broken-spirited, feebly struggling, de- 
spised, old palsied figure-head, grudging the few sous necessary 
every week to read in libraries and news-rooms the kind of 
books, articles, and perhaps S23eeches which at one time I wrote 
better myself. To read them? Yes, if I could still see. It 
sounds well, the press. You and your colleagues, who only 
come in contaqt with a single class of pressmen, find that they 
are often cleverer than you are at your own business! And 
when you get a glimpse of the higher ranks of journalism you 
find that the anonymous writer — ill-paid, unspared, used by 
every one, served by nobody— must almost show that he could 
qualify for a score of absolutely different callings. The actor, 
the vocalist, the painter, 2 :)reacher, barrister, or demagogue 
can be known for what he does. But the pressman? Society 
uses the working pressman, exhausts him, and then throws 
him on one side, without even having asked his name. The 
pressman in harness is the ladder by which others — able men 
as well as charlatans — mount upward to prosperity. How many 
self-styled statesmen and so-called orators owe their brilliant 
fortunes to the silent band of drudging journalists! How 
many grievances are aired, how many wrongs redressed! Tell 
me of a charitable movement which could have stood without 
the Fourth Estate, as they say. And the drudging pressman 
who has passed his days calling attention to the woes of others, 
what has he to look for in the hour of need, or when his health 
and. strength shall fail? He, who has found asylums for the 
distressed in all other sections of society, can confidently look 
in front of him to the complete oblivion of every one whom he 
has served. 

The inspector seemed so pleased at having stung his old ac- 
quaintance into this tirade that he took a glass of wine with 
him. 

“ Look at me!"^ proceeded Mr. Bingham, bitterly; I may 
be compelled to pocket the offensive pleasantries of a police- 
man — oh, you needifft interrupt! We know each other, Byde; 


158 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

I believe yon sincerely wish me welh and in return for the 
service I once rendered you, you will permit me just for once 
to speak a little plainly — I may be a declasse, virtually out- 
lawed in my native country; I may have been driven by des- 
titution to — what you will — in early years, and I may have 
more or less incurred suspicion since — but look at me! I am 
in perfect health, and my own master. The poor friend I had, 
years ago, went blind at journalism. I remember the recep- 
tions I met with, when I applied for some assistance for him 
to wealthy people, some of whom had been made public men, 
'parole d’lwmmtr ! public men — by the labors of himself and 
of his colleagues. He died, poor fellow! He died — and I con- 
sider that his blindness and his death saVed my own eydsight, 
and my own life. It was then that I made my choice of a 
career in earnest. With my gift of the gab I might have gone 
into professional philanthropy; with a little capital I might 
have made a fortune in quack medicines. I did better. ^ ’ 

What was it, Benjamin?^’ 

“ More honest, all things considered.'’^ 

“ I wonder .what it could have been. We never found it 
out.’^ Mr. Bingham did not answer. ‘‘Hot the insurance 
agency line, I’m sure; though it does seem a profitable line 
here, when you are a vicomte?” 

“ A worker on the press!” exclaimed Mr. Bingham, with a 
final explosion — “ I could buy a newspaper next week — but 
not out of money earned by serving the public in that sort of 
way!” 

“ I wish to goodness you^’d buy that temperance rag that 
pitches into me,” returned the inspector. 

They sat looking at each other for a few moments. 

“ I’m an old fool,” said Mr. Bingham, at length, com- 
posedly. 

“ Come, come,” expostulated the inspector. “ You’ve told 
me nothing. ” 

“ You’re pretty clever at the Yard, some of you,” con- 
tinued Mr. Bingham; “ and you’re one of the best yourself. 
But I tell you what it is: you don’t owe more than fifty per 
cent, of your successes to cleverness on your own part. Half 
the time it’s the stupidity of the other people that enables you 
to bring it off. ” 

“ True for you, Benny,” said the visitor. “ When they’re 
not stupid they can get away — if they only knew it. Hot in 
this country, though. By the way, I didn’t explain that they 
have mixed me up with this Gare du Herd case. We shall 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 159 

soon put our fingers on the two London men who are suspected 
of the murder and robbery in the night mail. 

He looked at his host steadily as he pronounced these words. 

“ Aha! A case of suspicion?^^ 

Mr. Bingham did not flinch. It was not very likely that a 
man of his years and experience/^ as he had observed to 
Vine, alias Grainger, would be taken off his guard by sudden 
home thrusts. His gaze became quite as steady as his vis- 
itor's. 

Inspector Byde recounted the barest circumstances of the 
primd facie case against the two suspicious characters from 
London. 

‘‘We shall have them, he repeated — “ to-morrow or the 
next day. One of our men here is working with the French 
police, and I^’m assured that the thing is safe for the day after 
to-moiTOw. What should you think, knowing Paris? 

Each still met the other^s regard quite steadily, and each 
wore a smile of easy unconcern. Grandpa made a show of 
turning the question over in his mind. 

“ Well,’^ he said, eventually, “ upon what you say I should 
think these men are booked. Who are they?^^ 

“ A man named Vine, who had a dozen aliases, and a West 
End pickpocket named Finch. Y^es, I fancy we shall find 
them. And, from what I hear, we shall also find a man who 
met them by the train — clearly a confederate — perhaps the 
man who is hiding them away."” 

For the life of him, the speaker could not keep his eyes 
from wandering to those closed doors, which apparently com- 
municated with other apartments. That side glance enlight- 
ened Mr. Bingham. 

“ AVdiy, what have you to do with a case of murder com- 
mitted on French soil— in the French metropolis, you may 
almost say?^^ 

“ To tell you the truth, Benjamin, I^m looking for valuable 
property supposed to have been stolen in England. My in- 
structions are that the murdered man was in illegal possession 
of this property; and, as it had not been found upon him, the 
presumption is that the property was abstracted from his per- 
son by the murderer or murderers. The two men I spoke of 
know that the Yard is after them. Consequently, they can 
do nothing in the way of liquidating the valuables, which, I 
may as well add, are diamonds. To get the stones upon the 
market, they must of course make use of the Paris confeder- 
ate, the third man. Kow, as one man of business to another 
— suppose you were in my place (determined to recover the 


160 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAIH) YARD. 

jiroperty, but not at all obliged to trouble about the murder), 
and suppose the third man was an old friend, who had done 
you a good tiu-n, and whom you did not wish to injure, what 
would you do?^'’ 

Tr-r-r-r-r-r! 

Before Mr. Bingham could reply, the electric bell resounded 
faintly behind his chair. At the same instant footsteps were 
heard outside. 

A caller — and somebody strange to the premises, thought 
Mr. Byde, remembering his own experience. 

Whoever the caller might be, he was either in great haste or 
in a violent temper. He appeared to be shaking the door as 
well as he was able; he delivered a hearty kick presently upon 
the lower panel. The small metallic vibration resounded in a 
spasmodic manner behind Mr. Bingham^ s chair. 

Some one in a hurry to insure his life,^^ said the inspector. 
“ Don’t keep him waiting, Benjamin!” 

Mr. Bingham reached behind him and detached the com- 
munication. 

‘‘ Vous 2 )ermettez 9” he demanded, rising with a very grand 
air indeed. 

Je vous enprie/^ responded the inspector, graciously, not 
to be outdone. 

Mr. Bingham moved toward the partition, and disappeared 
on the other side of it as a fresh blow was delivered against the 
panel. The inspector heard the snap of the lock as the door 
jerked open. An exclamation in English met his ears, and 
then a smothered reply by his host. The door banged; the 
two voices now evidently proceeded from the outside. 

Alone in the office, Mr. Byde promptly changed his place for 
the one which had been occupied by his host. He tried the 
drawers conveniently accessible at his right hand, but all were 
locked. On his left hand, however, the top drawer opened at 
once. The inspector cast a rapid glance at the two closed 
doors which had already attracted his attention — at a structural 
recess here and there in the spacious room — and at a dark 
nook formed by the position of the disproportionately high safe. 
Alone? Yes, he was alone; but free from scrutiny? 

The office door had shut to violently. By accident? If he 
had not heard the murmur of voices outside he might have im- 
agined that the loudly closed door was an artifice devised for 
his own benefit. There were no voices to be distinguished at 
this moment. Who might not be watching him from the 
other side of that partition? 

Suppose his wily old acquaintance had not passed over the 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. IGl 

threshold at jail? Suppose he had a partner with him on the 
other side of that partition, and they had a little plan con- 
certed for securing his sequestration temporarily? For all he 
knew, thought the inspector, rapidly, they had “ got it up for 
him/^ On some pretext or other he might be handed over to 
the French police, and before he could regain his f reeqom — he, 
the only man whom Byers was afraid of, and the only man 
after all who could satisfactorily identify the two men 
“ wanted — everything would have been settled. Vine and 
Finch would be out of the country; all traces of the property 
would have been lost; and Byers would come and offer him 
the fullest excuses, and would remind liim privately that what 
had befallen him he only deserved, his own intention in visit- 
ing the premises having been simply to entrap an old friend. 

It would be legitimate warfare, calculated Mr. Byde, and 
Benjamin was quite deep enough to resort to the maneuver. 
A frightful experience for him — to be told off on continental 
duty, and to get put into jail himself. They would never 
leave off laughing at the Yard! .And that temperance paper, 
with its headings — ‘‘ Inspector Byde Again,'’ ^ or ‘‘ The Latest 
Exploit of Inspector Byde!"’"’ 

He listened, and could hear nothing but the rattle of the 
traffic in the thoroughfare below. It might be wiser, per- 
haps, to run no risks. And yet he would have given a good 
deal to be able to search these premises. 

What if he actually found the property here — the Wilmot 
diamonds reported to the Yard as having been stolen from 
Park Lane? Old Wilmot might have come to them with a 
true story — why not? Suppose the property were actually in 
this room, and he found it? Why, then he might be thrown 
into the hands of the French police, with a primd facie case 
against him of having had the property secreted about him for 
an indefinite period. Eemington once identified with the 
Wilmot diamond robbery, he, Byde, having journeyed by the 
night mail, would be at once connected with the murder itself. 
Amateur detective people, and any one who nourished griev- 
ances against the pohce, would immediately declare that the 
temptation had been too great for his resistance, and that he 
had yielded all the more readily because he knew that sus- 
picion would most naturally descend upon the two men from ^ 
London. 

Bah! How he ran on! Was it in the least degree probable, 
now, that he should come across the stolen property here? 
Was old Ben Byers, even if he really had the present custody 
of the diamonds, the man to leave those sort of things about 


162 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


— to leave them for a couple of minutes only^ accessible to a 
fellow from Scotland Yard? No, no! Too old a soldier — 
Byers! It was hardly worth while profiting by his absence, if 
he really had gone out of the room. Oddly built, these older 
French houses. You could easily be hidden in that alcove 
over there. At night, a burglar or an assassin — Bad light, 
this afternoon! The opposite houses were so liigh that you 
could not even see the le^en, wintery clouds. 

The inspector pulled the topmost drawer wide open with his 
left hand. 

‘‘Who knows, said he, “what I may light upon? A 
spoiled envelope, an address card, an emj^ty vial, the Soho 
postmark, the name of Clements & Company, a revolver — the 
revolver, perhaps, by Jove?^^ 

He pulled the mahogany drawer wide open, and glanced at 
the few articles it contained. It was almost too shallow to be 
used as a receptacle for revolvers. What were these odds and 
ends? Postage-stamps, sealing-wax, twine, a pair of scissors. 
A by-stander who could have divined the conflict just now rag- 
ing in the inspector's breast might have pointed at him with 
derision. But the inspector has often remarked that in his 
business there are no such things as trifles. He did not touch 
the scissors, twine, or sealing-wax. He shpped the lid ofl a 
small, square, white card-board box, from one side of which a 
fringe of white cotton-wool peeped out. A glittering object 
reposed within a little nest of snowy cotton-wool. 

Mr. Byde unhesitatingly extracted the glittering object from 
its immaculate nest, and transferred it expeditiously to his ovii 
waistcoat pocket; an act which no doubt he knew as well as 
anybody constituted an offense against the droit commun of 
France not less than against the common law of Albion, his 
native land. That done, however, he replaced the square 
card-board • lid, and left the spotless fringe escaping from one 
side exactly as before. Noiselessly he closed the drawer. 
Now, then, had he been watched? 

Inspector Byde marched up to the deep alcove. In its dark 
shadow, no one. He strode toward the partition, but was 
arrested by a scraping sound — tliat of a key against a lock, 
evidently. It must be the Vicomte de Bingham letting him- 
self in. Mr. Byde would have wished most earnestly to ex- 
plore the communications of the other two doors, but it was 
impossible this afternoon! A pity! For all he knew— 

The office door unlatched with its customary jerk. Mr. 
Bingham banged it after him, and emerged from behind that 
most conveniently placed partition. There were no signs of 


r THE PASSEHGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 163 

j, flurry in liis manner, but he seemed less genial than it was liis 
wont to be. His eyes looked very bright. A frown lingered 
' vaguely about his brow. 

“ What is that equestrian statue I can just see at the end of 
K the street?'^ inquired the inspector, with his hands in his 
E his forehead against the window-pane. 

“ Louis XIV."^ 

\ “ Who made our ancestor a vicomte?^^ 

j YouVe been prying, I can see, my boy — youVe been pry- 
\ ing about! Oh, there^’s no rural innocence here! Take your 
[ hands out of your pockets and come away from that window. 
[ It wonT do.’’’’ 

: ‘‘ Benjamin, you are ruffled. 

; So long as I didnT leave the safe unlocked!'’^ Mr. Bing- 

I ham moved over to the massive safe and tried the handle. 
“ That^s all right, said he, coolly; ‘‘ I breathe again. 

‘‘ I dare say there^’s valuable property, now, in that safe,^^ 
rejoined his visitor, contemplatively — “ a good deal of valua- 
ble property, I shouldnT wonder — property of all sorts?^^ 

‘ ‘ The petty cash, and the Be Bingham patents of nobility, 

, and one or two marketable commodities which belong to 
clients. 

“ Ah! Just think of it. The Be Bingham patents of no- 
bility. The Yard would love to see those things. WeM like 
' a copy of them, Benny, for the museum. CouldnT you let us 
have a copy of your title deeds on vellum?’^ Mr. Byde face- 
tiously pronounced the word vealum.'’^ 

What has this man been prying into/ 1 should like to 
know,"’"’ continued Mr. Bingham, substitiiting, with equal 
playfulness, divers uncomplimentary designations for the noun 
‘ ‘ man, as he repeated the phrase two or three times. He 
glanced over the table, and tested each^^f the mahogany 
drawers at his right hand as he took his seat. Iso/’ he ob- 
< served, “ I think I left no bank-notes and no documents 
I about. The visitor pretended to be vastly entertained by 
this undisguised mistrust, and joked on the subject, as he still 
) stood with his forehead against the window-pane. 

|| The lower of the mahogany drawers at the vicomte^s left 
* hand were locked. He drew out the upper drawers careless- 
ly, turned over a few papers which one of them contained, and 
that was all. The odds and ends thrown into the topmost 
;:7 drawer barely engaged his attention at all. Had it escaped 
the old gentleman ^s mind that in the shallow topmost drawer 
he had placed that little square box in white card-board edged 
.■ with gilt? 


164 THE PASSEHGEE FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

What was it you were saying just now?'^ demanded Mr. 
Bingham, suddenly noticing his visitor's persistent stay at the 
window. 

‘‘Just now?^" 

“ Before we were interrupted.'’^ 

“ Bon^t remember. 

“ An infernal fool, that fellow, by the way! A noisy brute 
who couldn^t find the sonnette. * A client. A few more clients 
of that description,. and the firm would be discredited. Idiot! 
Here, take a cigar, Byde. 

“Thanks, no.^^ 

“I dare say you thought it a deuced strange way for a 
client to call in at a business office on an afternoon 

“ I thought he might be in a hurry to insure his life,^^ the 
inspector answered, without turning his head. 

“ D d idiotic fashion to turn up at a respectable office, 

repeated Mr. Bingham, a growing uneasiness visible in his 
manner. “ See what it is to have a large Royalist connection 
in the provinces. Ignorant clods, half of them, who want 
their money back as soon as theyVe intrusted it to you for 
prompt investment in profitable foreign securities!” 

“ Fools !’^ assented Mr. Byde. 

“ Oast your eye over our circulars. That will give you 
some notion of our agency business, and the extent of it. ” 

“ ITl take your word for it, Benny.” Mr. Byde^s forehead 
seemed positively glued to the windoV-pane. 

“ Something interesting you down there?” hazarded the 
vicomte, boldly. 

“ Oh, dear, no^” replied the inspector, turning from the 
window, and repressing a yawn. “ There’s nothing very in- 
teresting in your street. Monsieur de Bingham — except the 
people who occasionally come there, hey?” 

“ Yourself, for instance, man of modesty?” 

“Just so — what I was thinking of.” 

The inspector had been thinking of an entirely different per- 
sonage. It was of the excited visitor, who, though a client, 
had not been able to remember the whereabouts of the bell at 
that respectable office door, that he had been thinking. And 
sure enough he had finished by perceiving from the window 
the face of a man who appeared to be awaiting some one, as he 
loitered at the corner — sometimes within the view on this side, 
sometimes lost to sight on the other — across the street. It 
was a face he recognized very positively this time. It was 
Vine, alias Grainger, who was loitering at the corner over the 
way. 


THE PASSEHGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 165 

# 

‘‘ Come/^ expostulated Mr. Bingham, gently, you don^t 
expect that that will wash with me, I hope? You were not 
thinking of any swell from Scotland Yard; you were thrashing 
your brains about the swell who was here in a panic just now. 
Come — weren^’t you?'’'’ 

“ Benny, I was,^^ returned the inspector. 

Well, have you made your mind up?^^ 

Benny, I have.'’'’ 

“ Well, isn^t my word as good as another man’s word — isn’t 
it — you suspicious old villain you?” 

It is, Benny, it is — quite as good as another man’s.” 

‘‘ Then don’t begin on old Ben Byers again. Poor old, 
worthy old, ill-treated Benjamin Byers! He was as honest an 
old gentleman as ever paid queen’s taxes and local rates. 
And yet they wouldn’t let him go on peacefully. The Yard 
were always beginning on him. They hunted him until he 
was obliged to pack up and go. Poor old unfortunate Byers! 
They hunted ham out of his native country — they drove him 
forth from his dear native land!” 

Don’t cry, Benjamin!” 

No, Mr. Inspector, sir — I don’t mean to cry. It was a 
dev’lish good tlung for Benjamin, as it turned out, that they 
drove him forth. He ended his days in honor and in opulence : 
on a foreign soil, amid plenitude and at peace, he breathed his 
last. One Bingham rose up in his place — ” 

Be Bingham, Benny — ” 

‘‘ Who wa» as like him as two peas are like. But not so 
amiable; with more money of his own, and more money at his 
back; and with a few things up his sleeve that might make it 
a dangerous undertaking to begin on him. A dev’hsh ugly 
customer, this Bingham — ” 

‘‘ Be Bingham, Benny — ” 

“ And / should say that the man who thought he could be- 
gin on him was mad. And I should further say that the man 
who tried to hunt him would meet with accidents. He would 
be — down at the first obstacle, he would — and — very likely 
break his neck!” 

“ Threats, Benny?” 

‘‘No; entreaties.” 

“ Advice, you mean. Risky advice. But you always were 
audacious ” — oz^'dacious, pronounced the inspector, in his 
facetious way. “ We’ll have a glass of wine together. I 
must get back to the hotel. ” 

They exchanged actionable epithets with the greatest serenity 


1G6 THE PASSEHGEK FKOM SfOTLAHD YARD. 

and good humor; and then, in a glass of that excellent 
malaga, drank to each other^s eternal confusion. 

“1 know my way out — don^t rise!’' urged the inspector, 
politely, as he put on his hat and moved toward the counter 
and partition. “ I leave you to the clients.” 

“ Yes, I have an hour’s work here,” responded Mr. Bing- 
ham. He touched the communication which unlatched the 
office door, and in another moment the visitor had gone. In- 
spector Byde walked habitually with a heavy tread, and the 
sound of his retreating footsteps could be heard front within. 

The inspector did not go down-stairs, however. He ascend- 
ed the staircase to a higher floor, and there he waited on the 
landing. 


CHAPTER XV. 

The inspector stationed himself at an angle of the balustrade 
from which he could easily command a view of the two stories 
below. A few persons passed up and down the staircase; an 
office door on either side of him would be opened and closed to 
allow of egress or admittance to some visitor or an employe; 
and from time to time a junior clerk who, as the inspector 
made his appearance, was just finishing a cigarette upon the 
landing, would put his head out of a door- way and examine the 
new-comer’s back with marked inquisitiveness. Mr. Byde 
could on occasion see all round him simultaneously — or at least 
could make you think he had that gift; the fact has been 
already remarked elsewhere. When it suited him to do so, 
therefore, he detected the young gentleman in one of these 
examinations, and, wnth a half -salute to him and half a phrase, 
conveyed politely that his presence on that spot had no refer- 
ence to the young gentleman’s firm. The junior clerk, with 
the true courtesy of his nation — in flute-like tones, and with a 
gesture full of grace — invited the inspector to avail himself of 
the bench placed there gratuitously for the general use; and, 
returning among his colleagues, told them that the loutish im- 
becile who looked like a foreigner was still hanging about the 
'palier, outside, in a suspicious manner. 

At length Mr. Byde’s patience met with its reward. The 
Yicomte de Bingham, personally, issued from the Bureau for 
the “ achat des creances d V Hr anger ” down-stairs, and de- 
scended toward the street. Xo one had an eye upon the in- 
spector at this moment. He accordingly lost no time in pull- 
ing a large silk scarf out of an inner coat pocket, and in 
adjusting it to form a kind of not inefiectual disguise. He 


THE PASSEHCtER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


167 


bound his face up with the scarf, and tied the ends in a knot 
at the crown of his head. This done, he pushed his handker- 
chief inside the scarf at one side of his face, pulled his hat 
down firmly, and turned uj) the high collar of his overcoat. 
On his way down he necessarily repassed the dentisk’s show- 
case on the first-floor. M. Melliflu himself had just shown a 
lacerated patient to the top of the stairs, and as he caught sight 
of the inspector's bent shoulders and bound-up head, that 
odontalgic expert — thought the inspector — looked extractions 
at him.'’^ 

The stylish black Inverness cape by which it would not he 
difficult to identify the retreating form of Mr. Bingham proved 
at first undiscernable, when the inspector cautiously stepped 
out into the street. On neither hand was it to be seen. His 
view of -the corner, over the way, at which he had perceived, 
restlessly pacing to and fro. Vine, alias Grainger, alias Sir 
John, was intercepted for the moment by the lines of vehicular 
traffic. The same fact, however, sheltered his own person 
from observation. Presently he detected the black Inverness 
cape hastening away from the Eue des Petits Champs by the 
street which traversed that thoroughfare. At Mr. Bingham^s 
side strode the erect figure of Sir John. 

It didnT surprise him in the least, reflected Mr. Byde — no, 
not in the least, upon his word and honor. The very clever 
people who made so many mistakes would have guessed at it 
right off, certainly. Toppin would have jumped at the con- 
clusion without the shadow of a query, if Toppin had but 
known what he knew as to old Ben Byers. But, at the best of 
times, guesses were hazardous; and they might all have gone 
extremely wrong upon their obvious guesses. Now, what had 
led him strongly to connect the personality of Benjamin with 
this matter? What had brought him down to Benjamin’s 
office? What had placed within his reach that piece of ostensi- 
bly indirect evidence which he now carried in his waistcoat 
pocket — what had put him actually upon the path of one of 
the suspicious characters urgently “ wanted What? Why 
— remembered the inspector, as he warily dogged the footsteps 
of the companions in front of him — what but a process of pure 
logical induction? 

He did his best to reconstruct his written argument of the 
previous night. As he had expressed them, the relations of A 
to B and 0 led up inexorably, the inspector flattered himself, 
to the hypothetical functions of X and Y ‘‘to find, etc. 
And, liaving applied his reasoiiing in a rigidly practical man- 
ner, having proceeded logically from A liimself, here we were 


168 THE PASSEHGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

already trotting at the heels of some one whom he might 
rationally infer to be either X or Y. How they cleared the 
mind, these formulas and symbols, meditated Mr. Byde. He 
would not deny that his colleagues, who never used a single 
symbol, or any formula, could not have arrived at exactly the 
same result with a lapse of time precisely commensurate. But 
their methods were impressionist, not scientific. Any incident 
or fact of evidence which conflicted with their irrational treat- 
ment of inquiries could not positively be measured and tested 
at once, and afc once accepted or discarded; no, they must be 
always noting, always keeping matters in suspension, always 
multiplying side-issues, always losing themselves in the trite 
assumptions of ofiicialism. Half their time they spent in 
dangling after false clews. How could it be otherwise, on a 
procedure by “ rule of thumb They succeeded — yes, they 
succeeded! But they also failed. Give them something to do 
outside the common run of criminal cases! Give them a prob- 
lem to solve in regions of pure reason — [“regions of pure 
reason — regions of pure reason,^’ muttered the inspector, with 

f reat gusto — “ one of the boy's phrases, I think; ah, if I had 
ad the education which that boy has had!'^]^ — take them out 
of the routine where their experience of the criminal classes 
was backed up by the “ from information I received, and 
how many successes would be scored by the majority of his col- 
leagues? Acting solely in pursuance of his impressions, a 
sharp colleague might have landed upon Vine, alias Grainger, 
through the involuntary a^ncy of Bingham — yes, he would 
not affirm the contrary. But it would be guess-work, mere 
empirics, you might say. Could that colleague convince an- 
other mind, as he had convinced his own? Ha! It was not 
enough to feel sure that you were right; you had to convince 
third persons that you were right. And on the impressionist V ^ 
method how could you do this? Impressionism was individual. 
Your own impressions might be accurate; but the persons who 
in the end were called on to decide (and who might incidentally 
pronounce upon your conduct) — they might be constitutionally 
unfitted to receive the same species of impressions. ^Vhereas 
a scientific method cleared the head and shaped the judgment; 
imparted confidence to the inquirer, and wrung -acquiescence 
from the most unwilling of lookers-on; climbing to an irre- 
fragible conclusion through irrefutable steps. 

The foregoing is the inspector’s language, and the reader 
will anticipate us in a smile at the “ irrefragible conclusion ” 
which is attained by climbing “through irrefutable steps.” 
These were elegances of diction and proprieties of metaphor 


THE PASSEETGER FKOM SCOTI^AND YARD. 1G9 

due in great part to the evening class on rhetoric at the insti- 
tute in Camberwell. The inspector had interested himself in 
numerous branches of the institute^’s curriculum. Some of the 
hebdomadal classes he had followed for thirteen consecutive 
weeks! Those who enjoy the privilege of his acquaintance will 
admit that Mr. Byde is a man of undoubted natural parts. At 
the same time *it has been urged by certain of Ins private 
friends^ among themselves, that the art of rhetoric, the palaio- 
zoic period, the Aryan race, elementary physics, and Barbara, 
Celarent, Darii, Ferioque, turned up too often in his familiar 
conversation. Topics of that sort, have commented certain of 
his private friends, would be more suitably gone into with his 
son, who understands them. And, indeed, the inspector will 
sometimes talk so learnedly upon subjects taught, in the even- 
ing, at the institute at the corner of the Terrace, that we 
should despair altogether of transcribing his occasional utter- 
ances. Extremely fortunate must it be esteemed that in nar- 
rating the part he played in the Wilmot inquiry (Park Lane) 
there should be no necessity of toilhig after him up any 
acclivity more precipitous than the rising ground of Book I. of 
‘‘ Euclid^s Elements.^'’ 

‘‘ Q.E.JJ.^^ was the inspector’s rather premature comment 
as he observed M. de Bingham pull up at a cafe and suddenly 
cast a searching look around and beliind him. In the dusk it 
had been difficult, remaining at a safe distance in their rear, 
to keep the two figures ahead always in view. Mi*. Byde could 
see, however, that their intention was to enter the cafe. That 
preliminary glance by Grandpa, thought Mr. Byde, spoke vol- 
umes. It was that glance wliich had ehcited from him the 
triumphant “ Q.E.D.,” although nothing whatever was yet 
proved — scientifically. In construing that glance into an 
avowal of clandestinity. Inspector Byde was plunging into rank 
impressionism. 

The two confederates passed into the cafe by the main en- 
trance. The man who was following them might have ap- 
proached at once, for they moved toward the quietest portion 
of the establishment without lingering an instant near the door. 
Mr. Bingham evidently knew the premises well. It was he 
who guided his companion to their places, and the other ac- 
companied him without offering a M'ord. The cafe had three 
entrances, all communicating directly with the street. The 
dispositions of the interior corresponded with the respective 
entrances, the area forming three sections, which were marked 
off by columns, replacing what had apparently been, once 
upon a time, party-walls. In short, the cafe had the look of 


170 THE PASSEHGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

having been extended and enlarged on each of its sides. Where 
the columns indicated the boundaries, the rows of seats were 
ranked back to back. The bases of the columns formed a 
substantial barrier between the rows of seats, and upon their 
projecting angles lay directories, time-tables, newspapers, and 
other objects belonging to the establishment. It would be pos- 
sible for the persons who might be seated upon one side of the 
columns to overhear the conversation of the neighbors with 
whom they were back to back. By the simplest of precau- 
tions neither need continue long unaware of the other^s vicin- 
ity; but in the absence of any such precautions neither would 
be easily discoverable by the other. To one of these rows of 
seats Mr. Bingham conducted his visitor. They sat down with 
their backs to the columns, and to 'all appearances were secure 
from close observation. Vine, ulias Grainger, leaned against 
the padded bench with a sigh of relief, qualified by a singularly 
unpleasant scowl. Mr. Bingham abruptly remarked to him 
that here they might converse undisturbed. 

A moment or two afterward the inspector entered the cafe 
from the further door. The establishment was not well light-' 
ed, and a thin cloud of tobacco-smoke, which seemed to pene- 
trate to every corner, somewhat obscured the view. Inspector 
Byde threaded liis way slowly among the tables, as though he 
were seeking out a suitable place. When he had made his 
choice, he might have been discovered reposing on the com- 
fortable bench which stood back to back with the seats occu- 
pied by the two personages he had followed. Grandpa might 
have assured himself, by rising to his feet and looking over, 
whether or not on the other side of the barrier there were 
eavesdroppers. He did not do so; he did not even turn his 
head. Had he devoted some attention to the point, he might 
or might not have recognized Inspector B3^de. His companion 
threw a glance at the seats immediately behind him, and dimly 
perceived a solitary form at the cafe table on the other side of 
the barrier — the form of a man who, with his head bound up, 
appeared to be Avrapped in profound slumber. Mr. Bingham ^s 
negligence on the subject might have been deemed incompre- 
hensible. At this moment the cafe contained few customers. 
It was not 3^et the normal hour of absinthe. Their arrival 
coincided Avith the lull which usually precedes that dietary rite. 

DohT you talk to me about being compromised!^’ said 
Mr. Bingham’s companion, savagely. If you want your share 
in this, you must take your risk. Where’s Bat?” 

I’ll take my risk with any one, if there’s occasion for it, 
ih a lawful way/' said Mr, Bingham, iu distinct tones. As 


THE PASSEHGEK FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 171 

e for anything unlawful, I will not be in it; and once more let 
me tell you, I will not be compromised!^^ 

“ Wbat is this d d game! what is it?^^ demanded Sir 

J ohn. 

“ It^s my misfortune if I^m known to you,^’ continued the 
other — ‘‘ and I suppose that to some extent I am at your 
mercy. But there^s a limit, and I won^t be compromised! 
The position I occupy here in the commercial world is an hon- 
orable one, and I canT permit any one to damage it. I for- 
bade you strictly to come near my office, and I can not im- 
agine what reason you could have had for coming to me at all. 
If it happens again — mark my words! — if you take a liberty 
like that with me again. I’ll let out what I unfortunately know 
— I’ll put the police on to you. As for what you say about 
‘ shares,’ I really don’t understand you, John; I should think 
you have been imbibing.” 

“ Look here, Byers! Whom do you think you have got to 
deal with?” 

Now, I brought you in here for a moment for the sake of 
being quiet. We can talk this matter over quickly here, and 
we’ll talk it over once for all. It’s no use making any disturb- 
ance about this. I told you originally that I would have noth- 
ing to do with it; and I teU you so again. That’s all I have 
to say; and let this be our last meeting. ” 

Then you have — managed — to — put — your — hands — upon 
— the — property?” said Vine, alias Grainger, placing an em- 
phasis upon each word, and steadily regarding his interlocutor. 

‘ ^ Then you have settled it with Mr. Bat, and I am to be left 
out — i, who, if you must be told so, put the Soho firm up to 
the whole affair? Who would have known anything about the 
Wilmot diamonds if it hadn’t been for my private sources of 
information?” 

‘‘ That is nonsense, and you know it. What have I to do 
with Bat, or any one else you may be mixed up with? Come, 
let us drop this sort of conversation. Why did you come to 
my office?” 

‘‘ Oh, indeed! oh, indeed! Dear me, what a vh-tuous old 
gentleman we are, and what nice weather we’re having. 
Without my private sources of information, who could have 
put the firm on to Remington? Where’s Bat?” 

“ The sooner we put an end to this the better. I have 
nothing to do with either your movements or Ms. Now, I 
haven’t much time to spare, and — ” 

“Just as you please,” replied Sir John, with a certain fero- 
cious tranquillity. “ Put an end to this at once if you like, so 


172 THE PASSEHGEE EEOM SCOTLAND YAED. 

far as conversation goes. But when you go out of this cafe, I • 
go too; and where you go, I go too; and whoever meets you, 
meets me too. 'And that^s what I came down to the office to 
tell you, Byers; with this addition, that you may have been 
too clever for them at Scotland Yard in the past, but that the 
day you try on any double-cross business with me, your time 
has come!^^ 

“ Did I hear you rightly, John?^^ inquired the Vicomte de 
Bingham blandly — my time, did you say, has come?^^ 

That^s what I said,^^ returned the other, in an unchanged 
tone. ‘‘My motto has always been ‘no violence,'’ but I 
shouldn'^t stand upon ceremony with you. Don^t you try any 
double-cross business on with me; because it^s a thousand to 
one I get it back.'’^ 

“ John — there’s a good case of suspicion against you. Sup- 
pose I hand you over to the French police before you leave the 
street we are in? There’s a fair circumstantial case of mur- 
der against you, John. Not that I believe it for an instant; 
but others might. How would you like that?” 

“ The wind has shifted, then, has it? What about the posi- 
tive opinion Grandpa had, so early in the morning, that it was 
Brother Neel, whoever Brother Neel may turn out to have 
been? It was Brother Neel who got there first, said Grandpa; 
Brother Neel who settled the deceased first, and who dished 
Clements & Company afterward.” 

“ Yes, I gave you that opinion in a disinterested way — it’s 
true. But with that I washed my hands of the entire affair. 
And I tell you plainly that if you drag me into the nefarious 
scheme which you appear to have been personally involved 
in — ” 

“ Drop this, Byers! There’s nothing to incriminate me, 
and that you know. Besides, you haven’t looked at the even- 
ing paper yet. They were reading it at the hotel, my disinter- 
ested, venerable Bingham. The French police don’t want any 
clews that you can give them of the — the — murderer. They 
have their clew. They have the French guard of the train; 
and if they hold the murderer, they hold the Wilmot diamonds 
— come!” 

The announcement should have formed an overwhelming 
surprise for Mr. Bingham, but he did not betray more than 
the astonishment of convention. 

“The guard of the train — the Fi’ench guard — now!” he 
ejaculated, mildly. “ The scoundrel!” 

“ Don’t you think they’re wrong. Grandpa Byers?” pur- 
sued Vine, alias Grainger, with a diabohcal sneer. “ Don’t 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 173 

you think — in a quite disinterested way — that if they clapped 
their hands on Brother NeeBs shoulder they would be a very 
great deal nearer the mark?^^ 

“ I 'should have really believed so, John, from what you con- 
fided to me — much against my will.^^ 

‘‘ Ah, what a victimized old gentleman is Grandpa Byers! 
And to think that he has very likely by this time got the very 
best evidence of the murder stowed away in his ‘office at the 
place just down the street — loose diamonds, that is to say, to 
the value of £20,000, tl^property of Stanislas Wilmot, of Park 
Lane : having induced ^e said Neel to part with the said dia- 
monds, or a proportion of them, or having taken them from 
him without directing the said IS^eePs attention to the occur- 
rence! Whereas Bat?'^ 

“ I decline to listen to your insinuations any longer. They 
are monstrous, perfectly monstrous and incoherent! The 
property has doubtless passed out of NeePs possession, and if 
you want to know where it is to he found, I think I could in- 
dicate the place to you. He called this morning at the prem- 
ises of his Temperance League, in the Boulevard Haussmann. 
I happened to be there on general business. When he arrived 
at the offices of the society he had a parcel with him. When 
he came away, be had apparently left the parcel at those offices. 
It might be any parcel, you may say. les; but would Neel 
be disposed to keep property^ of that sort, under the circum- 
stances, at his hotel apartment? And if not, where else could 
he place it? Besides, I know something about the I. 0. T. A. 
Therefore, still in the most disinterested manner, I would sug- 
gest that you should turn to the Boulevard Haussmann with as 
little delay as may be- possible, John. I won’t deny that I 
may be wrong, you know; but I rather fancy that I may be 
right. ” Mr. Bingham paused to note the eft'ect of his state- 
ment, and then added, with a great deal of dignity: “ In any 
event, remember, please, that I wash my hands absolutely of 
the transaction.'’^ 

Sir John appeared to be debating inwardly whether the news 
he had just been favored with was to be relied upon. Suppos- 
ing the information to be accurate, however, he did not see 
what useful purpose would be served by his repairing to the 
quarter specified. Bingham^s attitude in the alfair had be- 
come altogether puzzling. It would doubtless be better, all 
things considered, to adhere to his resolve; Mr. Bingham 
should not quit his sight. JJiey lapsed into a silence which 
Sir John was the first to break. 

“ Where’s Finch?” he again, demanded. 


174 THE PASSENGER PROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

Before replying, M. de Bingham threw a careless glance at 
the adjacent tables. 

‘‘We were lucky to secure this quiet corner, said he. 

The places in front of them and on each side were still un- 
occupied; and when he turned to survey the tables in their 
rear, he found that the scene in that direction also remained 
virtually unaltered. There was one change, however, that 
should have struck him. The man who had been seated on 
the bench just on the other side of the barrier — the man who 
had his head bound up, and seemed to have fallen asleep — was 
no longer to be seen. Mr. Bingham's visage had borne a set 
and stern expression twice or thrice during the debate with his 
companion, but it now relaxed into wrinkles denoting an in- 
ward satisfaction, if not strong symptoms toward hilarity. It 
has been before observed that merriment suited Mr. Bingham's 
countenance. He began to look quite the rubicund, genial, 
free-handed old gentleman who willingly chucks bashful fifteen 
under the chin, and distributes half-pence among the little 
•brothers. The widow and the orphan might have been par- 
doned for trusting their all to Mr. Bingham {ne Byers), thus 
transfigured. The widow, in particular, could hardly have 
resisted such a dear old gentleman, with his good-humored 
face and twinkling eye, with his easy-going simplicity, and his 
probable tendency toward apoplectic seizure, which might 
carry him off suddenly any day. Something or other was 
amusing him, that was sure. He sustained the suspicious, 
searching regard of Vine, alias Grainger, without in the least 
departing from his air of guileless content. On the contrary, 
had Sir John himself approached him with the orphan's piteous 
tale upon his lips, you would have felt exceedingly disappoint- 
ed if this benevolent Grandpa, assuredly meant by nature for 
a trustee, had not, in the fullness of his heart, administered 
relief unto the forlorn applicant out of the fullness of positively 
his own pocket. 

“You are putting up something, Byers," exclaimed his 
companion, in a tone of suppressed exasperation. “ If it's at 
my expense, by , mind what you're about!" 

Sir John had a decidedly evil aspect as he uttered this men- 
ace. His gray eyes were half closed, and he gazed sideways 
from under his eyebrows in a very peculiar and “ uncomfort- 
able " manner indeed. With his head bowed, he was pulling 
restlessly at his mustache and twisting its long ends mechanic- 
ally and ceaselessly round his ungers. He had his lips tightly 
compressed, and the corners (5f his mouth curved malevolently 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 175 

upward. His Roman nose looked just now more than ever 
Roman. 

AVhat could there be about this man which always van- 
quished, whenever he wished to vanquish them, not merely the 
most beauteous members of the opposite sex, but those who 
had ever passed for being the wittiest and the most wise? What 
was it? He possessed neither the extreme ugliness nor the re- 
markable beauty which have been the most frequent causes, 
perhaps, of immedicable hifatuations among the fair. Sir 
John was slightly over the middle height; he had a maiify fig- 
ure; and he had, likewise, the habit of conquest. ,So far as 
his features went, the cultivated physiognomist would have 
read there rpsolution, desperate recldessness, and possibly a 
vice or two. There were a few other attributes which neither 
Lavater himself nor the most orthodox of his disciples might 
have dreamed of predicating in their summary of Sir John. 
He owed a great deal to his marvelous faculty of dissimulation. 
It was most likely to this valuable adjunct, aided by invincible 
assurance, and tact in the use of flattery, together with a free- 
dom from the smallest scruple, that his prompt successes with 
the fair in general were to be ascribed. Men would occasion- 
ally divine him, and he knew well enough when he was divin- 
ed. Only on the part of his own associates, however, could 
any such discovery or denunciation place him ill at ease. 
With all this, he never indulged in scoundrelism that was un- 
necessary. The widow and the orphan who addressed them- 
selves for succor to Sir J ohn would have gone both unassisted 
and unharmed away. Quite celestially interesting they might 
have been, and either — for the mere sake of argument we as- 
sume this case — might have exerted, Niobe-like, or unlike 
Niobe, the full force of her captivations: Ernest Vine, alias 
Grainger, would have turned from them to peruse the police 
reports of the newspapers. The parish register of St. Botolph, 
Aldgate, proves that he was born and baptized in the Christian 
faith; but he was a Christian hi whom the worship of shekels 
always dominated other descriptions of faith and sentiment.' 

“ I have paid my little bill at that hotel you carefully lodged 
me in,'’'’ he resumed, “ and now I donT leave you, Byers. 
Where'’s Finch?'’^ 

‘‘Pretty well, thank you, John; how are youV returned 
Mr. Bingham, still in keen enjoyment of some mental picture. 
“ I think we may now venture upon the step of rejoining the 
young gentleman. GarQon!” 

“ V^la, o’ la, m’sieurf’ 

Fayez-vom.'’ 


176 THE PASSENGER ER03I SCOTLAND YARD. 

‘^Wlien you came to the hotel for Finch/ ^ continued Sir 
John, picking up the small black leather bag he had brought 
with liim from London, “ I thought you said he was to go to 
work upon this Neel at once, and that if the story we told you 
about the journey was tlie riglit one, the thing was as safe as 
houses? And now you say that Neel has got away from you, 
and left the property at some jdace here — the offices of that 
society — where it^s most likely locked up in some safe. What 
have you been about, you and Bat? AVhat have you been doing 
with your time? You let this man slip through your lingers, 
and then you come and tell me where he has deposited the 
2)roperty, as if you fancied I should run off to the address, and 
go and ask the people who live there to ‘ hand it over to me, 
if you please!’ We’ve lost the property, and you’re the man 

to blame. You’re a d d old idiot, Byers, a d d 

idiot! I was against your coming into tins, from the first. I 
told the firm we didn’t want you in it, but I never thought 
you’d actually spoil us when there was a chance of transacting 
the business. They can say what they like, but this was busi- 
ness which I and nobody else brought into the firm; and I 
ought to have insisted upon having my own way. If I hadn’t 
been straightforward and honorable with Clements, nobody 
need have known anything about it. I could have done it all 
myself. Why should I have brought the firm in?” 

That’s a matter between you and the firm. I suppose 
that if you didn’t take business to them, you couldn’t expect 
them to keep you in employment?” 

“ Well, but why the should Clements bring you into 

it, and put you down for a share? What could yoio do? You 
could only do what you have done — spoil us!” The speaker, 
pale with rage, uttered another imprecation. 

‘‘ Clements brought me in because he had need of me— 
that’s all. You couldn’t make anything out of the trans- 
action until you floated the property, and you couldn’t float 
the property without me. Nonsense? Could you float it? 
Could Clements himself, or any one else in the firm? You 
know j^ou couldn’t. You know how long you’ve had to hold 
other property, and what you’ve had to Jose on it. At one 
time there was hardly a living to be made at the game for all 
of you, with the rents you have to pay, and the commissions, 
and the appearances you have to keep up. You know as well 
as I do that you’ve got a room full of good stuff that you can’t 
pass on. Clements told me himself that what you hold in red 
(gold) alone is worth a fortune: only you can’t put it through 
—you daren’t part with it, Scotland Y"ard would be waiting 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 177 

on the doorstep before you got home. Well, I"ve had enough 
of this. Go to the devil, John — go to the devil 

‘‘ We'll all go there together,'' exclaimed Sir John, fiercely. 

I’ll go there for you, Byers, if you've sold me!" 

They prepared to move out of the cafe. Mr. Bingham 
found it inijDOssible to restrain his mirth, and after shaking 
for a few moments in silence, at length chuckled audibly un- 
til the tears came into his eyes. 

‘‘ I declare," said he, “ that poor old Grandpa Byers can 
give them all a good start and a beating. Are you a sprint- 
runner, John?" 

Vine, alias Grainger, had extracted a letter from one of his 
pockets, and was re-examining its contents. 

“ Listen, John. Suppose that by chance this Wilmot prop- 
erty passed very soon into the custc^y of Inspector Byde?" 

The other folded up the sheet of note-paper he had been 
perusing, and did not immediately respond to the cue. 

We'll pick up Finch as soon as you like," he remarked, 
sullenly; ‘‘ but first of all I have a visit to make to the Avenue 
Marceau, No. — " He referred again to the missive for the 
precise address — ‘‘ No. 95." 

Avenue Marceau, here, in Paris?" Mr. Bingham did un- 
doubtedly exhibit surprise. “ Do you know anybody there?" 

A somebody happens to be there who knows Grenville Mon- 
tague Vyne, Esquire," returned Vine, alias Grainger, holding 
out the envelope. It was a letter bearing the name he re- 
peated, and directed to the Poste Kestante, Paris. As we were 
present while the superscription was being placed upon that 
identical envelope, we may acknowledge without any fuss or 
ceremony that the handwriting was Miss Murdoch's. ‘‘ Ah," 
went on the enviable recipient of her note, cruelly unapprecia- 
tive of his good fortune, but thawing before the astonishment 
betrayed by Mr. Bingham, ‘‘ you don't know everything, old 
Grandpa Byers! You don't know, for instance, how I learned 
that there would be diamonds to be dug out in Park Lane, and 
that before the firm could deal with the case it had been put 
up by the man Eemington and another. No — you don't 
know that?" 

If I had, I'd have turned my knowledge to better account 
than you '’have done, my fine fellow. AYliy, even now, you 
can't put two and two together!" 

Oh, well, after a little calculation I shall arrive at it," 
replied Vine, alias Grainger, turning his half-closed gray eye 
upon M. de Bingham with an exceedingly sinister exiiression. 

We put Mr. Inspector Byde upon the proper track for the 


178 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


recovery of the Wilmot joarcel, and the efforts of that distin- 
guished gentleman from Scotland Yard become thereupon 
crowned with success. Then Mr. Inspector Byde gets hurt.'’^ 

“ I doiiT say that it mightn't come to thiit/’ acquiesced the 
vicomte, airily. '^Idiey had now gained the street. Summon- 
ing a cab, they told the coachman to drive them to the Avenue 
Marceau. 

The feeling which asserted itself in the bosom of the in- 
spector, as he also had driven away from the cafe, was one of 
thankfulness that, after all, the case intrusted to him did 
shape into a tangible form. If it liadnT been for my private 
sources of information,^^ had said Vine, alias Grainger, ‘‘ who 
would have known anything about the AVilmot diamonds?^ 
By “ who he meant, of course, what member of the Clem- 
ents combination. Consequently, this man had known of the 
actual existence and actual whereabouts of the missing valua- 
bles, and with regard to their abstraction must have been able 
to place convincing evidence before his associates. Stanislas 
Wilmot, the guardian of Miss Adela Knollys, had therefore 
made no false statement when he came to the department 
with that tale of a mysterious robbery from his strong-room 
in Park Lane. The AVilmot diamonds were not fictitious; and 
they had been stolen. The inquiry became tangible once 
more. 

AVithout his own private sources of information, the man 
Vine had proceeded, “ who could have put the firm on to liem- 
ington ” — the deceased. That brought them back to the case 
of vague suspicion with which they had started, pondered the 
inspector. As to the situation of Mr. Sinclair, he would have 
been heartily glad to see his way clear to the exculpation of 
that young gentleman. They were charming ladies, Mrs. 
Bertram and Miss Knollys — charming, charming ladies, he re- 
l)eated, thinking sokly, however, of Miss Knollys. For their 
sakes he would be glad if Mr. Sinclair could establish his in- 
nocence; and — yes, he would — ^heM be willing to go out of his 
way if he could help the young man to that end. At the 
same time the story told him by the ladies in the Avenue Mar- 
ceau proved, for one thing, that the young man had l^een in 
pressing need of funds at the period of the robbery. To him- 
self, Mr. Sinclair was unknown. Mr. ‘Sinclair might be a 
young man capable of arguing that as an abettor in the de- 
spoilnmnt of this mysteriously dishonest guardian, he would 
be merely recovering for Miss Knollys a portion of her Avitlp 
held property. 


THE PASSEHGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


179 


So much for the original theft. Now, with respect to the' 
present position of the inquiry — we should see what the organ 
of the I. 0. T. A. in the press would have to say! 

In accordance with instructions, Detective Toppin was 
awaiting his chief at the latter'’ s hotel 

‘‘ Heard the news?"-’ demanded Toppin. 

‘‘ The French guard of the train?"" 

‘‘ Oh, better than that! Look here."" 

Toppin unfolded an evening newspaper, fresh from the 
printing office. Among the ‘‘ Dernieres Notivelles "" ap- 
peared an article headed ‘‘ The Assassination of an English- 
man on the Northern Eailway. — A Hint for the Police."" 
Premising with a laugh that a journalistic hint to the political 
police of Paris might be counted upon to carry as much weight 
as a sworn affidavit, Toppin translated the last paragraph of 
the article in question : 

‘‘We should imagine that the indications we have quoted 
will be generally acknowledged to be beyond dispute. There 
can be no doubt that the leaders of the extraordinary move- 
ment to which we have referred made Paris their head-quar- 
ters in the early part of the year now coming to an end. A 
passage in our correspondence from Vienna on March 23d 
touched upon this subject in significant terms, and uttered a 
public warning which no government in Europe should have 
found ib possible to pass over. Unfortunately, bureaucratic 
indolence and skepticism once more prevailed. The warning 
of our correspondent was comj)letely ignored, although it had 
nowhere been denied that secret conferences of the federation 
had been held simultaneously in all the capitals of Europe two 
months before. That the head-quarters should have been 
transferred to Paris is a matter of the gravest import. We 
suppose that in a country like our own, possessing a fuller 
measure of freedom than that which can be boasted of by any 
other nation in the whole world, some abuse of our ungrudg- 
ing hospitality must be expected. But to say so much is to 
say also that we should hold ourselves on our guard against 
the abuses of our generous hospitality which are possible. 
The revolutionaries of the world may have welded themselves 
together, with the orgaiiization and the programme shadowed 
forth above, and may have conferred, as we maintain, upon 
this metropolis the unenviable distinction of selecting it as the 
heart and center of their colossal system; they may do this, 
and we and others who are not revolutionaries may remain 
powerless so long as none but legal methods are openly em- 


180 


THE PASSENGEK FEOM SCOTLAND YAKD^ 


ployed. When, liowever, they resort to means infringing' the 
law of the land, even as slightly as in the few examples we 
have cited, we urge that the question becomes one for diplo- 
matic negotiation, in view of common action by all the govern- 
ments. And how much more necessary does this course ap- 
pear when assassination begins to take its place among the 
methods of the vast conspiracy we have been the first to de- 
nounce? The Nihilists of Eussia; the Native Separatists of 
British India; the advanced Socialists of Spain and Germany; 
the German secret societies which spread like a net-work 
throughout the United States: all these, equally with our own 
Anarchist desperadoes, derive their inspiration henceforth from 
a common source, a single fount — the luminous orb of the 
world^s intelligence, Paris. Those who are responsible for the 
preservation of order know full well that we are indulging in 
no exaggerations. We do not profess to teach them anything 
new, so far as we are dealing with the general state of affairs; 
but we can enlighten them as to one or two points which are 
not without a practical interest The ‘ Maelstrom ^ — for such 
is the portentous designation under which all these far-reach- 
ing agencies of trouble are affiliated — pursues its audacious 
'proioagande before their very eyes in the metropolis. » If our 
suggestions are followed out we ^all perhaps be told eventu- 
ally that we have advanced allegations impossible to substanti- 
ate — that, unsupported by the smallest data, we are casting 
odium upon a foolish band of fussy but harmless zealots. 
Vraiment 9 And the Englishman who has been assassinated 
between Oreil and Paris? And the valuables which were oiot 
abstracted by the assassin? And the visit made to the morgue 
by certain individuals who were apparently known to one an- 
other, but affected to hold no communications one with an- 
other? We have indicated the Boulevard Haussmann to the 
police. We go no further than that. It is not our business 
to denounce criminals to justice. The police must now search 
for themselves. A copy of the directory for the current year 
should amply suffice to guide them to the premises where im- 
portant seizures of documents, plans, or ciphers may be 
operated. We happen to be in a position to inform our 
readers that a functionary of that same foolish band of harm- 
less zealots formed one of the ‘ certain individuals ■’ to whom 
we have just referred. Monsieur Hy is possibly unaware of the 
fact. But our ediles of the Municipal Council will harv-e to vote 
a great deal more money to the prefecture if they are to outbid 
the reporters of the Paris press in their relations with the 
guardians of pubhc order. Monsieur Hy, who is understood 


THE PASSEKGER PROM SCOTLAND YARD. 181 

to be directing the present inquiry, may likewise be astonished 
to hear that the functionary in question — whose tactics appear 
to consist of placing himseM en evidence as a means of disarm- 
ing suspicion; he has become quite a familiar figure in the Rue 
Feydeau {Proh pudor !) — Vas accompanied at the morgue by 
a stranger, also connected with the Boulevard Haussmann 
premises. We can state, for our own part, that the ‘ Forcing 
Resident,^ which is the principal organ of the English-speak- 
ing colonies in Paris, gives the name of the stranger in its 
column of ‘ Arrivals and Departures. One of our redactenrs 
calls attention to a striking coincidence, just as we are going 
to press. We suppress the name for obvious i-easons; but we 
should like to ask the redacteur-en-chef of the ‘ Forcing Resi- 
dent at what time he received the note with regard to the 

arrival of Monsieur in Paris. Did he, par liasard, 

travel by the night mail from England — the train in which 
this apparently inexplicable murder was committed — an out- 
rage which we persist in regarding as a vengeance ordered by 
the ‘ Maelstrom?^ 

“ That^s the news!^^ said Toppin, laughing, when he had 
finished the article. ‘‘ What do you think of it?^^ 

“ As to their ‘ Maelstrom,^ I won't pronounce," replied the 
inspector, thoughtfully. “ But I have my own reasons for 
looking after the gentleman they hint at, and we must be be- 
forehand with them. Suppose we want to enter upon premises 
and operate a search, what authority do we require?" 

A. perquisition; and that takes more than five minutes to 
get, I can tell you." 

‘‘ No other way? We will assume that what is wanted is a 
particular box — not large — or a particular bundle of papers, 
recently deposited on the premises. The parcel might have 
been lodged in some place of safety. " 

‘‘ Bribe the servants, if you can wait a few hours. Bribe 
them well, and they will steal the keys — perhaps let you in at 
night, when you can have a look round for yourself. Are 
there any servants?" 

The inspector mentioned the vivacious French brunette." 
He did not doubt the potency of a fair bribe with that damsel, 
but the negotiations might require more time than he could 
spare. 

‘‘ Not at all," Toppin assured him — just the most rapid 
at a bargain, that sort! Doesn't want to stay in service, that 
sort! Wants a wardi’obe better than the patronne^s, and 


182 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

jewelry. 1^11 undertake to have the search made by to-mor- 
row morning. 

‘‘ Well — no” said the inspector — the case is ripe enough 
now, I think. We can go straight to the point now, I think. 
Come round with me to the Rue' de Compiegne, Hotel des 
Nations. That 's where he has been staying, this Monsieur 
, otherwise Brother Neel.-’^ 


CHAPTER XVI. 

‘‘ The Mysterious Affair of the Care du Nord — Important 
Arrest! Demandez le ‘Journal du Soir'’!’’ Demandez 
‘ L’Echotier!'’ — The Crime on the Northern Railway — Curious 
Indications — A Strange Story! — ‘HEchotier!' Vient de 
paraitre ! !” 

These were the cries which Inspector Byde and Detective 
Toppin encountered as they crossed the Rue Lafayette on their 
way to the Rue de Compiegne. The rival hawkers thrust 
their evening papers before the faces of the two colleagues, hut 
Toppin flourished in return the journal from which he had 
translated the article printed in the Latest News. It was the 

Echotier,^^ containing the “ indices curieux ” that we have 
just seen. 

“ That important arrest — what is it?^^ asked his superior 
officer — “ the French guard 

“ Yes,'’^ said Toppin, “ and theyffl let him out to-morrow. 
There ^s nothing in it. Before coming on to you, !• looked in 
again on Monsieur Hy, and — oh, he^’s too clever, he^s much 
too clever for a world like this! — he wants to make out that 
they are letting the guard go in order to pick 
next week, with an accomplice and the stolen 
complete. These papers don’t know that yet. 
du Soir ’ has only got as far as the arrest, wliich I heard all 
about at the prefecture this morning. ” 

He then repeated for the inspector’s information certain 
passages in the earlier interview with M. Hy, of which an ac- ’ 
count has been placed before the readen With regard to the J 
second interview, during the afternoon, it was all very well for [ 
M. Hy to play the excessively malin, but the fact must be, j 
added Mr. Toppin, that the case against the French guard had ] 
completely broken down. It seemed that when he had brought J 
the night mail into Paris, and cleared the train, this man was ? 
entitled to a day off duty. , On the present occasion he had jj 
obtained leave of absence for a couple of days by arrangement | 


him up again 
property, all 
The ‘ Journal 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 183 

with a fellow-employe, who was to replace him. Well, he had 
celebrated his holiday by a heavy drinking bout, as appeared 
to be his custom. The police had found him helplessly intoxi- 
cated in a cabaret near his lodging. He had been home to 
take otf his uniform, and the police had discovered a revolver 
hidden among his clothes. 

‘ Hidden!^ commented the inspector. “The worst 
species of impression!'’^ 

“ 1 beg pardon?'’'’ queried Mr. Topj)in, gaping at his su- 
perior officer. 

“ Why can'’t they say they ‘ discovered a revolver among his 
clothes '’? That’s all they’re entitled to say — and see how it 
tones it d.own!” 

“ Then the bullet fitted into the chambers of the revolver.” 

“ Ah, they’re not rare, friend To^quii — coincidences like 
that. And who has decided that the bullet fits into the cham- 
bers of the revolver? Because I remember a case once — it Avas 
all circumstantial — when a bullet was reported to us as fitting 
into a particular fire-arm, and it was nobody’s business for a 
few days to make the test. The bullet certainly would go into 
the barrel and come out again — oh, there was no mistake 
about that! — only the bullet was more than a shade too small 
to have been used with any weapon of that caliber. I remem- 
ber another circumstantial case in which the ball had been 
flattened by the obstacle it had encountered, and the fact had 
not been properly allowed for. Has this prisoner offered any 
statement?” 

“ They told me this afternoon that he professes to be able 
to account for the whole of his time — rather difficult, I should 
fancy, for the guard of a train. They have lighted upon noth- 
ing which points to any theft in the search they have carried 
out on this fellow’s premises, etc. ; but of course he would 
have had time to get compromising objects out of the way. 
What sort of an explanation he can furnish I must say I don’t 
understand : unless he means to prove that from Creil to Paris 
he was in the company of the other guard, or something of 
that kind.” 

“ Instead of letting this man out to-morrow, ” observed the 
inspector, jocularly, “they ought to put the other guard in 
with him. Why, they’ll be apprehending iis next, Toppin — 
they’ll be laying their hands on you and me!” 

“ Quite capable of it,” answered Toppin, with a queer 
glance at his chief. 

The tall, angular dame presiding at the bureau of the Hotel 
des Nations^ Kue de Compiegne, replied to their inqiury for 


184 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

Mr. Neel that he had not yet come in. This was nevertheless 
his usual hour — in fact, a little past liis usual hour. 

‘‘ Does he not dine here., at the tcibh d’hote, every even- 
ing?^'’ asked the inspector, looking at his watch. 

Oh, yes,^^ responded the angular dame, who, like all her 
compatriots in the hotel bureaus near the great termini, spoke 
English perfectly, and another language or two, perhaps, quite 
was well — ‘‘ he dine all evenings. ’’ 

‘‘Half past five,^^ murmured the inspector, mechanically 
consulting his watch once more — “ and your table d’hote — at 
what time do you hold it?"’"' 

“ There is two: the fierced at six-dirty, and the others at 
sayven."’’’ 

The speaker pointed to a framed announcement of these 
facts, and, behind the inspector’s shoulder, threw killing re- 
gards at Toppin, who was really a fine figure of a young man, 
though inaccessible, it seemed, to the blandishments of 
maturity. 

“ Half past five,” muttered Mr. Byde, again — “ if he comes 
in after six, I can hardly manage it. ” 

“ Excuse me, inspector,” said his colleague in an under- 
tone, as they stood on one side — “ but I suppose that when 
you travel you are always armed?” 

“ What should you think?” answered Mr. Byde, staring at 
the young man. 

“ The usual, I suppose?” 

“ And so they’d be capable of putting their hands on me, 
friend Toppin?” 

“ Well, the police here are no respecters of persons, you 
know — when they’re dealing with foreigners. I thought I’d. 
just mention it.” 

The inspector was about to respond, but checked himself. 
Brother Neel entered from the street. Had nothing arrived 
for him, inquired the new-comer, addressing the lady presi- 
dent of the bureau — no telegram?” 

“ No, sail’, if you please, not! mats — ” 

“ Mais V’ 

“ There is come those gentlymen — there.” 

Brother Neel turned in the direction indicated, and for the 
moment did not recognize the burly middle-aged man who, 
stationed with a companion in the obscure recess of the din- 
ing-room side-door, appeared to be scrutinizing him very nar- 
rowly indeed. After a slight hesitation, however, he recol- 
lected Mr. Smithson, and advanced, repeating : 

“Oh, my dear friend, pardon me! — Mr. Smithson, of 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 185 

course. A thousand pardons — a thousand, thousand pardons. 
Preoccupied, dear friend. An inconceivable affair! So kind 
of you to call — so very kind of you to call!’^ 

“ A minute — can you spare me a minute asked the in- 
spector. 

“ Certainly, my dear friend, Mr. Smithson, certainly. 
Come upstairs, my dear friend. Have you seen this abomina- 
ble attack upon the ‘ lota?^ Have you read that unscrupulous 
evening newspaper? Can you imagine that such reckless fire- 
brands, or such foolish, credulous alarmists could be so,^' etc., 
etc. 

Inspector Byde and Mr. Toppin both evinced as keen an in- 
terest in the structural surroimdings through which they fol- 
lowed Brother Heel, as in the temperance lecturer^s culmina- 
tive denunciations of the odium wrongfully cast upon the 
I. 0. T. A. Mr. Topping’s mental notes might have been 
open to the objection of being too obviously, too manifestly, 
taken down. Not a single means of egress could have escaped 
that searching eye. He glared at a bricked-up door- way; 
tapped at a worm-eaten wainscoting; peeped through the 
hinge of a partly open door, upon the other side of which a 
handsome gentleman who tied a white cravat to his perfect satis- 
faction was smiling at himself in a mirror and making poses. 
On their way along the corridor to the apartment occupied by 
Brother Neel, they met the anarchist ‘‘ boots,^^ reluctantly 
bearing on his shoulders the substantial luggage of a bou7'- 
geois. He scowled at Toppin, as the latter, more sturdily 
built than he; and with the advantage of a head at least in 
height, swung by — a scowl so unprovoked and so malignant, 
that Toppin — who did not know of his anarchist hatred for 
every species of superiority — for the superiority of mere physique 
as well as for that of intellect, or wealth, or rank — pulled up 
for an instant and took a note of him, mentally, that ought to 
have proved ineradicable. 

Arrived at the extremity of the corridor. Brother Neel let 
himself into his apartment and proceeded to light the wax- 
candles on the mantel-piece. 

‘‘ WonT our dear friend step in, too?"’"’ said he, as Mr. Top- 
pin loitered on the mat outside, and shuffled his feet. Toppin 
obeyed the suggestion, closed the door, and posted himself on 
the mat inside, as though he were a sentinel on duty. 

The inspector borrowed a candlestick from his host and 
made a tour round the large room. Espying the door of com- 
munication to the left on entering, he demanded in a low tone 

what might be on the other side of it?'^ 


18C 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


]5rother Neel, astonished at his question and his movements, 
stopped in placing chairs for his guests, and replied, in a low 
tone, likewise, that he was sure he could not say, but that no 
doubt it could be easily ascertained. The door most likely 
would communicate with some other hotel apartment, similar 
to his own. When he had taken up his quarters here the 
neighboring apartment was unoccupied, but he had heard 
some one stirring to-day, he thought, and by this time he 
most probably had been furnished with a neighbor — unless, 
indeed, the persons moving about the room had been employes 
of the establishment. 

‘‘We donT need to be overheard, remarked Mr. Byde, 
still lowering his voice; “and before we go on, I think it 
might be well to be assured upon the point. 

The imminent smile quite died away. Brother Neel ran his 
fingers through the plastered locks of hair which he wore so 
vigorously brushed back from his forehead and behind his ears, 
and which terminated in an oily fringe at the nape of his neck. 
He ran his fingers twice through his hair in a somewhat nerv- 
ous manner. 

“ Wliy, this is very singular!^'* said he. “ Precautions? 
Precautions against listeners? In whose interest are they 
adopted — why adopt them?^^ 

‘^WeTl come to that,’"’ answered the inspector, his voice 
sunk to little more than a whisper. “ Personally, I hate be- 
ing overheard, whenever or wherever it may chance to be — and 
so does my friend here. It’s a little weakness which we are 
both subject to. We only approve of listeners when we’ve 
reasons for particularly wisliing to be overheard. At present 
there are no such reasons. You don’t know my friend, I 
think?” 

Brother Neel responded with a gesture meant no doubt to 
assure the sentinel at the door that the privilege of forming 
his acquaintance, though at the eleventh hour, was one which 
he. Brother Neel, should always prize. The smile did not 
dawn, however, nor did the eloquent lecturer of the I. O. T. A. 
find his resonant voice. Mr. Toppin returned the gesture with 
a virile dignity, sniffed, and fastened his eyes iqDon his superior 
officer. Mr. Byde moved a step nearer his host, and added : 

“ Detective Toppin, of Scotland Yard.” 

“ Scotland Yard!” 

The exchange of whispers, the immobility of the three fig- 
ures, the uncertain shadows in the dickering light, lent to the 
scene a sudden dramatic impressiveness. 

“ Detective Toppin, acting with myself in this inquiry. 


THE PASSENGEE FEOM SCOTLAND YAKD. 187 

And my name is not Smithson. I am Inspector George Byde, 
of the V Division.'’^ 

Brother Neel remained standing sideways at the hearth — his 
elbow on the mantel-piece, his head supported by his band, 
jmrt of his features illumined with distinctness. 

“ Have you any questions to ask?'’^ continued the inspector, 
monotonously. 

‘‘No.^^ 

‘‘ Any observations to make?'^ 

‘‘No."" 

“ Any statement to offer?"" 

Brother Neel paused before replying to the third query. 

“ No,"" he repeated, at length. 

“ Then you will allow us to go on with our inquiry in your 
presence?"" 

“I have no desire to stop you in the performance of any 
duty you may have to discharge, "" said the temperance lecturer, 
slowly — “ neither any desire nor any motive. I shall be glad 
to know, however, in what way I can be connected with in- 
vestigations in Paris by gentlemen from Scotland Yard?"" 

“You shall know in one moment. First of all — excuse 
me — "" the inspector moved toward the bell-rope and rang. 
“ In one moment you shall hear."" 

They waited in silence for an answer to the summons. Pres- 
ently footsteps were heard in the corridor, and a knock fol- 
lowed. 

“ called Brother Neel, and Mr. Toppin opened 

the door. 

The anarchist appeared upon the threshold, his arms laden 
with fagots for the fire. 

“ This man does not understand English,"" premised Brother 
Neel. 

“ I"ll interrogate him for you, guardedly, on the points you 
mentioned, if you like,"" observed Toppin to his colleague; 
adding to the anarchist, in the latter "s language: “ Put those 
things down for a minute. We want to ask you a question or 
two. "" 

“ I am not here to answer questions,"" was the sullen re- 
sponse. “ I am here to clean your boots, to carry your lug- 
gage, and to light your fires."" 

“ Ah, you must be Just the man we would prefer to talk to. 
You are for the prochaine, are you not?"" demanded Toppin, 
shrewdly. “ Well, in our own country so are we!"" 

“ You!"" muttered the man, with a sneer, as his glance 
wandered from Mr. Toppin to the figure at the mantel-piece. 


188 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

‘‘ Vive la prochaine ! Vive la revolution sociale!” ex- 
claimed Toppin. ‘‘ Will you say as much?^' 

‘‘ Vive la rholntion socialel” responded the other, fiercely. 
Among compagnons, no humbug — no standing upon cere- 
mony!^'’ Toppin produced a small gold coin, and tendered it 
in off-hand fashion. 

“ Pardon — excuse — I can not!'^ The scowl began to gather 
again. 

‘‘ For^fche cause I 

‘‘For the cause The speaker gazed at his interlocutor 
with an expression of mingled scorn and incredulity. “ What 
species of revolutionist can you be, compagnon self-styled? 
The true revolutionist does not employ: he only serves — until 
the joyful coming of ViMd prochaine V* 

Des chansons — des chansons! In our country the com- 
pagnon both serves the cause and employs the hourgeoisie. 
Come — accept the obole of more fortunate comrades — Ik’s your 
duty to the cause — the revolutionary obole 

“Ah! the revolutionary obole, then — he placed his bur- 
den on the floor and took the piece of money. With the door 
once more closed, and after a fresh reminder as to possible 
listeners. Inspector Byde, through his subordinate, put a few 
questions to the anarchist which very considerably astonished 
Brother Bamber’s London colleague. One or two of the ques- 
tions were answered in the afi&rmative. 

“ Now, then,'’^ proceeded Mr. Byde, “ I want to engage the 
next room for to-night.’’^ - 

That would be impossible, intimated the anarchist, sullen 
from force of habit, but won over by the batch of questions 
which had astonished Brother Bamber^s colleague; it would be 
impossible, because the English bourgeois who had arrived in 
ill-health early that morning had taken that very room, and 
was occupying it still. Was there a pampered English bour- 
geois at that present moment in the adjoining room? Of course, 
he was at that present moment in the adjoining room — seeing 
that the whole day long he had not quitted it, being — as his 
elderly accomplice in the exploitation of the working-man, 
another bourgeois; mais un vrai typede Vexploiteur, cdui-ld! 
had stated — by the physician^s order confined to his bed — eh, 
qiVil creve^ done ! Un faineant de moins — quel malheur ! 

“ I may have to beg your hospitality for to-night, observed 
Mr. Byde to Brother Neel, “ unless you will favor me by ac- 
cepting my owu. We shall see. 

“ From what I understand,'’^ was the reply, “ your business 
tallies with that monstrous invention of the evening journal? 


THE PASSEHGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 189 

What — as men of the world you can believe that story for a 
single moment, or any story like it? The I. 0. T. A. impli- 
cated in dynamite plots! But you shall do as you think well, 
and I am at your service. There is one preliminary which you 
will be good enough to fulfill. You gentlemen are doubtless 
what you represent yourselves to be; but I have not yet seen 
your credentials.^^ 

“ Dismiss that man, Toppin,^^ said the inspector. 

Mr. Toppin asked for news of their anarchist^s lodge. The 
Iron Hand, and promised to attend one of the Sunday confer- 
ences. He then helped him up with the bundle of fagots, 
solemnly exchanged the salutation, and showed him out. 

“ My colleague here is a Paris agent of the Criminal Investi- 
gation Department,'’^ resumed the inspector, “ and is well 
known at the prefecture. With regard to myself, you are 
probably not unacquainted with my name, Mr, Neel.^-’ He 
handed one of his official cards to the traveling lecturer of the 
I. 0. T. A. 

‘‘ Oh, I have read about Inspector Byde,^'’ said Brother Neel, 
maliciously. “ I should have thought he would have been 
satisfied with one blunder. It was a ffiunder of sufficient mag- 
nitude, one might have fancied 

“ Very well. Listen. You deposited a parcel at the offices 
of the International Organization of Total Abstainers, Boule- 
vard Haussmann, in the course of this morning?'’'’ Brother 
Neel turned abruptly away from the "flickering candles. His 
arms fell by his side. Did you not?^'’ 

‘‘ I did,^^ he replied, with an effort — what then?^^ 

I have to request that you will enable me to examine the 
contents of that parcel.^'’ 

“ The contents? Draft reports and returns relating to the 
business of the I. 0. T. A.; statistics, pamphlets — reprints of 
a speech by Sir Willful Jawson in the House of Commons. 
What can there be in matters of that description, pray, to 
concern Inspector Byde?^^ 

“ My request is to receive the parcel, intact, for the purpose 
of personally examining its contents. 

Brother Neel hesitated again. His manner betrayed so evi- 
dent a calculation of chances that Detective Toppin made 
another hasty survey of the apartment, as if he suspected the 
existence of concealed means of escape. 

“ You are an adroit member of your profession, Mr. Byde,^' 
resumed their host — “ I doiiT deny your adroitness. But, be- 
lieve me, you are on a mistaken course. The thing is absurd 


190 


THE PASSEHGEK FKOM SCOTLAND YARD. 


altogether. There is absolutely nothing of a political char- 
acter in the parcel which you say you want to examine. 

“ There is nothing of a political character about the objects 
which I expect to find. 

Mr. Toppin opened his eyes very widely. What on earth 
could his superior officer be driving at? And what was the 
matter with the temperance gentleman, all at once? 

“We are pressed for time/ ^ added the inspector, still in that 
hushed monotone. 

“ I am innocent,^ ^ whispered Brother Neel, sinking into a 
chair. 

“ Of what?-’^ asked the inspector. “ Stay where you are, 
Toppin 

“ As you say,^'’ returned their host, firmly, raising his head 
and looking his questioner in the face : “ As you say — of what? — 
You shall see the contents of the parcel, gentlemen. 

“ That^s right! — at once, then. WeTl proceed immediate- 
ly to the premises in the Boulevard Haussmann.^^ 

“ Promise me one thing, gentlemen — promise that you will 
not place me under arrest ?^^ 

“ That^s as may be,^^ said the inspector — “that will de- 
pend. 

“I implore you to think of my position — think of the -cause, 
I implore you!'*'’ 

“We shall do nothing that the circumstances may not war- 
rant. We shall of course avoid subjecting you to unnecessary 
inconvenience. Be good enough to step down-stairs, Mr. Top- 
pin, and send for a cab.^^ Mr. Toppin obeyed. “In the 
meantime,^’ continued Mr. Byde, “it is my duty to caution 
you against making any statements which might be used 
against you as evidence. Any explanations, however, which 
you may desire to furnish, we are of course bound to listen 
to.’^ 

Brother Neel had retained his overcoat throughout the inter- 
view. He now crossed the room to take up his hat and walk- 
ing-stick. 

“ Never mind your walking-stick,^' observed the inspector, 
who had undemonstratively placed himself between his host 
and the door; “ you may as well leave that here. And — I 
don't wish to search you, but — there are no weapons about 
you, I suppose?" 

“ Weapons? Oh, dear, no!" 

“ Button up your coat then, sir, if you please." 

Mr. Toppin was soon heard hastening back. They quitted 
the room, in silence, and in silence returned along the corridor 


THE PASSENGER FR0:N[ SCOTLAND YARD. 


191 


and down the stairs. Mr. Toppin led the way^, the inspector 
bringing up the rear. 

AVhen they arrived at the bureau on the ground-floor. 
Brother Neel stepped aside to inquire again whether any missive 
or message had been delivered for him— whether there was no 
telegram. Nothing had been delivered for him, replied the 
lady president of the bureau, snappishly. They had interrupt- 
ed her in an operation of the toilet. Saffron, alas! were the 
once rose-fair cheeks, now wrinkled superciliously, and brick- 
red was the Grecian nose; and this proud organ she had been 
patting and stroking in front of a hand-glass with the anemone 
of the boudoir, a white and fluffy growth, choked with poudre 
de riz. Should they reckon uj^on M. Nill for dinner, she 
asked, launching at the irresistible Toppin the brightest of an 
ex-beauty^s languishing regards. 

Before responding. Brother Neel glanced at Mr. Byde. 

Tell her yes,^^ the latter answered; ‘‘ at seven o^clock, 
yourself and perhaps a friend or two. If you can get back in 
time for it, Toppin and I may like to join you at the table 

dniote.” 

Demandez le ‘Bulletm!'’ — The body at the morgue!"^ 

Demandez le ‘Journal du Soir!^ — The Drama of the Gare 
du Nord!^^ “ ‘ L^^Echotierfl Vient deparaitre ! — The Con- 
spirators of the Boulevard Haussmann ! — Demandez ‘ L^Echo- 
tier!"’ 

At frequent points upon their route news-venders met them 
with these cries. As their cab turned out of the Rue La:^yette 
into the Boulevard Haussmann, a man ran by the side of the 
vehicle, shouting the contents of an evening paper, and, thrust- 
ing a folded copy of the sReet through the window : 

“ Deux sous, ‘ L'^Echotier ^ — deux sous ! — The New Inter- 
nationale ! — Foreign Revolutionists in the Boulevard Hauss- 
mann I — Deux sous, ‘ L-’Echotier ^ — just out! — LisezV^QhotiQx 
^deux sous !” 

“My God!^:’ burst forth Brother Neel, “what a fearful 
affair !^^ 

“ Tell me,^^ demanded the inspector, as their cab drew uji 
before the offices of the I. 0. T. A., in the more tranquil por- 
tion of the thoroughfare, some distance further along, “does 
the gentleman whose name appears on this place — Mr. Bam- 
ber — does that gentleman know the precise contents of the 
parcel you left here?^'’ 

“ He does not.'’^ 

“ AVeigh your words before replying; does anyone but your- 
self know of the precise contents?'’^ 


192 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

The other was on the point of answerings but suddenly 
stopped. A new idea seemed to strike him. 

Why,’^ he exclaimed, vehemently, “your information 
must have come from Mr. Bamber!'’^ 

“No.^^ 

“No? Then I have told you allT have to say, sir!’^ 

“ Excuse me. If we find this parcel as you left it, no one 
but yourself can have been acquainted with the contents?^^ 

“ I have nothing to add. 

“ Very well. Toppin, tell the man to wait; we shall want 
him to take us back. Come upstairs with us. I may want 
your evidence, hereafter. 

On reaching the third-floor, where the highly polished brass 
plate of the I. 0. T. A. shone radiantly under the gas, Mr. 
Byde informed the temperance lecturer that he as well as Mr. 
Toppin would assume the role of simple spectator during their 
brief stay on these premises. There was no intention of dis- 
crediting Brother Neel unnecessarily. It would therefore be 
for Brother Bamber^s colleague to recover the parcel without 
loss of time, to assure himself that it had not been tampered 
with, and to at once return with his companions. This rapidly 
stated, the inspector rang at the front door. 

To their summons came no response. The inspector rang 
again, and still there was no answer. Mr. Toppin, whom the 
proceedings of the last half hour had somewhat bewildered, 
began to exhibit symptoms of disquietude. A third time the 
inspector rang. 

It was the “ vivacious French brunette who at length 
opened the door. 

“ Monsieur Bambaire?^^ demanded that functionary's col- 
league. 

Yes, monsieur was at home; in his bureau, she believed. 
Would these gentlemen give themselves the trouble to step in 
and seat themselves? Very busy, M. Bambaire! She hardly 
ventured to disturb him; but — afi'airs of importance, without 
doubt? 

Brother Neel handed the young woman his card, in order 
that there should be no mistake. She had shot a look of 
recognition at Mr. Byde, and had commenced the smile which 
she knew called up a pair of dimples. During the production 
of the card, however, she had had time to survey the form and 
features of the bemused Toppin. It was for the latter^s 
benefit, not for Mr. Byde, that she continued and sustained 
that widely arch and dimpling smile. She shut her chin down 
tightly on her chest as usual, opened and closed her eyes with 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 193 

the incessant motion which we know to be an unerring sign of 
artlessness in members of the dominant sex in many parts of 
the civilized world, and in mistresses as well as maids — perhaps 
in the mistresses more commonly than in their maids; and she 
tripped away with the short and studied steps that in males 
we often call a strut, and in females dainty grace. 

“Ah, dear friends — come in! C()me in, dear friends 
Brother Bamber, with a pen in one hand and some sheets of 
foolscap in the other, emerged from his private office by the 
door- way communicating with the vestibule. “ Hard at work 
— ^you see me hard at work! Our dear brother there under- 
stands what labor it involves — the maintenance and furtherance 
of an organization, with its multitudinous details and its multi- 
farious claims. Ahem! Pray come in, dear friends! A re- 
cruit, our dear young friend here? Welcome, welcome !^^ 

Brother Bamber enveloped Mr. Toppin with his fixed, frater- 
nal smile. 

To explain their errand proved the simplest of tasks for 
Brother Heel. He had found that the papers which he had 
left in his colleague'^s care would be indispensable to him that 
evening. These gentlemen had kindly accompanied him to 
the premises of the I. 0. T. A. He regretted infinitely to be 
breaking in upon the grave preoccupations of his colleague, 
unsparing as he was of himself, and indefatigable in the inter- 
ests of the cause; but there were documents in the parcel he 
had left with him which he should absolutely need to consult. 
So sorry — so very sorry! But the cause before everything-— 
was it not so? 

The self-possession of the speaker, as he proceeded with 
various observations in his platform voice, impressed Mr. Byde 
as particularly admirable. He listened with an almost gesthetic 
gusto to the lecturer^ s fine tones, and the beatitude of this plat- 
form physiognomy filled him with a serene bliss, a secular 
exultation. If he could bring the case home to a man like 
Brother Heel — ! 

What a triumph for him at the Yard! What a capture! 
What a prisoner he^d make — a fellow like this, with a voice 
like that, and, as Grandpa had put it, the “ gift of the gab!"^ 
Lord — how the trial would be reported, to be sure! Great big 
lines on the contents-bills of the London evening papers,, all 
the evidence reported the next morning fully, his own exam- 
ination-in-chief and cross-examination— ah, heM like to see 
the counsel on the other side whoM shake him. Counsel? 
Yes, he knew well enough whom they^d give the brief to, on 
the other side, to lea4— Shoddy Q. 0., who frightened them 


194 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

all when he rose up to smash a witness. They should see how 
Shoddy would get on with him, George Byde, of the V Divi- 
sion ! That Q. 0. had had the best of it, when they last met, 
in the great temperance prosecution, which had broken down. 
On that occasion he, Byde, had been misinformed, and Shoddy 
had upset him altogether with his minute system of cross- 
examination. But this time there would be no error. He^’d 
have the case in a nut-shell; and he’d just show them at the 
Yard how Shoddy, Q. 0., was to be discomfited! And what 
was more, he’d wake up some of the knowing ones at the Yard! 
He’d read them a lesson on impressionism and rule-of-thumb. 
None of them appeared to divine that in their business lay vast 
possibilities of scientific method. It was his misfortune to be 
incapable, educationally, of exploring, defining, and expound- 
ing those methods proper to the domain of pure reason, as his 
son would say; but at any rate the conception was his own — 
the conception of a scientifically trained detective force apply- 
ing mathematics to their regular work, reasoning on infallible 
processes, with symbols and by formulas. He might be in- 
capable of realizing the conception, but there was his son 
Edgar! 

They had all three followed Brother Bamber into his bureau. 
Their host had looked about for his keys, and had then gone 
to unlock a small safe which stood in one corner. He drew 
the brown-paper parcel from the lower shelf of the safe, and 
handed it to his colleague. The latter received it without 
pausing in his observations upon the progress of the cause. It 
was a pure and lofty cause, he said. It stimulated moral quali- 
ties which too generally, etc., etc. ; and it tended with certainty, 
if by slow degrees, to kill and eliminate all those germs of 
social morbidity which, etc., etc. 

“ Is that your package, then ” — asked the inspector, with 
what appeared to be merely formal concern — is that what 
you wished to bring away?” 

“ That is the bundle of papers, yes,” replied Brother Neel, 
glancing at the unbroken seal and at the tightly knotted cord. 

“It has been in secure keeping,” remarked the inspector, 
jocularly, indicating the safe. “ Bobbers would not get at 
your papers locked up in there?” 

• “ Well, I just lodged the parcel there, by the side of other 
documents,” said Brother Bamber, with his fraternal expan- 
sion. 

The gold stoppings of his front teeth gleamed again, and he 
pushed his gold-rimmed spectacles close up to his sandy eye- 
lashes and silky eyebrows. 


195 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

Brother Neel would have been pleased to pay his respects to 
Mrs. Bamber; but that lady was not at home just now, her 
husband stated. She had not yet returned from the lecture- 
room, nor would she be back for perhaps three quarters of an 
hour. A true helpmate, Mrs. Bamber; yes, were it not for 
Mrs. Bamber, dear friends, the routine work alone of the Paris 
branch — the daily routine work, dear friends — would be crush- 
ing, overwhelming, tide-cL-fay accahlant, as the French said! 

None of the visitors had yet spoken of the sensational news 
served up that evening by the ‘^Echotier.’’^ 

Had Brother Bamber seen to-night ^s papers, now demanded 
his colleague, stopping at the threshold of the offices, and bend- 
ing upon the Paris agent of the I. O. T. A. a look in which In- 
spector Byde clearly distinguished mistrust. As yet he had not 
seen a single evening journal, responded Brother Bamber — not 
one, not one! Too busy. Organization. Multitudinous de- 
tail. Multifarious claims. Enormous responsibility, the Paris 
branch. Great cause, the I. 0. T. A. — noble enterprise! He 
gleamed at them fraternally, and adjusted his gold-rimmed 
spectacles. 

Brother Neel relinquished his copy of the “ Echotier,^^ for 
his colleague to peruse when he found a little leisure. 

^ They drove back in the direction of the Gare du Nord. It 
was not, however, to the Rue de Compiegne that the inspector 
proceeded. The address he gave was that of his own hotel. 

Arrived at his destination, the inspector conducted his com- 
panions in silence to his private apartment. He had taken the 
parcel into his own charge, and, as soon as they were secure 
from intrusion, he prepared to sever the cords which bound up 
the I. 0. T. A. papers. Brother Neel stayed him with an im- 
pulsive gesture. 

‘‘ Be careful — I warn you to be careful in whatever course 
you may be going to adopt !^^ urged the temperance lecturer, 
his hand on the inspector’s arm. 

It might be anger that had paled his cheeks — it might be 
anger that shook liis voice and palsied his hands: anger equally 
with apprehension — conscious innocence equally with conscious 
guilt. 

“ If you have any statement to make,” returned Mr. Top- 
pin’s superior officer, in a busmess-like tone, “ we can hear it. 
Only be quick, please!” 

He paused for the other to continue. 

‘‘ The society I represent possesses friends in high quarters. 
Be careful! We are a powerful organization!” 

Mr. Byde waited. Mr. Toppin flushed with an anticipation 


196 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

of triumph. At the same time Mr. Toppin could not alto- 
gether make it out. 

“ If the great cause I represent, with all the inlhiential in- 
terests that are engaged in it, should be damaged in my per- 
son, remember—'’'' 

Come, come, sir,^^ replied Inspector Byde; you have 
nothing to complain of. You are not in custody. Is that 
all?^^ 

Brother Neel transferred his trembling fingers from the in- 
spector's arm to the sealed cover of the parcel itself. 

I know you by repute. Inspector Byde,"^ he went on, 
“ and I expect no mercy at your hands. But you are wrong. 
You are on the brink of another great mistake. Can you not 
give me the respite of a day — one day?"^ 

The inspector pursed up his lips, raised his eyebrows, and 
very slowly shook his head. 

“ I tell you, you are wrong — ^WEONG-!^^ thundered Brother 
Neel, with a sudden maniacal rage. I — tell you so — do 

YOU hear!"" 

Mr. Toppin took his hands out of his pockets, and stood 
with his arms loosely hung ready for a spring. 

“ There is only one thing I understand,"" said the inspector, 
still calmly, bending over the table, and that"s evidence!"" . 

“ Evidence! — ha! — evidence! — Listen, you obtuse clown—"" 

“ Enough of this,"" interrupted the inspector quietly; an- 
other man in my place might have passed you on to the authori- 
ties here for your attempts at intimidation alone. We must 
go on. I am responsible to my superiors."" 

And some of your superiors are at our head!"" 

“ And if they were found with stolen property in their pos- 
session, under circumstances they were unable to explain, they 
would be treated just as you will he treated, sir — neither more 
nor less. For shame, sir — for shame!"" 

Brother Neel flung his arm up with an air of recklessness. 
His eyes sparkling and his forehead heavily knitted, he began 
to pace up and down the inspector"s private sitting-room. 
Every now and then he would toss his long, dark, oily lock^ 
back from his forehead and behind his ears. It was an effective 
gesture for any public scene. In this limited space, with only 
two spectators in the gallery, and both of them in their ways- 
of thought exceedingly matter-of-fact, this leonine carriage of 
the head, this ample, commanding action of the arm, seemed 
unnecessary and ridiculous. Brother Neel, of the Interna- 
tional Organization of Total Abstainers, looked every inch a 
charlatan. 


THE PASSEKGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 197 

Detective Toppin had stepped round to the door-mat as be- 
fore. 

‘‘ That^s the article I want to look at/’ said the inspector, 
as the packet in white tissue-paper slipped out from the midst 
of the printed manuscript documents he had spread along on 
either side on breaking the inner seals. The white tissue- 
paper bore stains and blotches which, even in the imperfect 
light of the candles, Toppin could perceive from the door. 

With great care the inspector stripped off the white tissue 
covering, and unfastened the green silk binding holding to- 
gether the sides of the bulky pocket-book, or letter-case, as it 
appeared to Toppin. 

Almost as soon as the silk thread had been removed from 
this letter-case or pocket-book, a little heap of glittering 
crystals tumbled from Iboth its sides on to the table. 

’Ore nom de noms I” ejaculated Toppin. Diamonds!'^ 

‘‘ Yes,'’' answered Brother Neel, sneeringly, his head thrown 
back and his arms folded on his chest — diamonds!" 

Really? 

The inspector uttered an exclamation of ungovernable sur- 
prise, and, picking up half a dozen of the objects in question, 
held them for examination close to the flame of the candle. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

It was undoubtedly an exclamation of surprise — the ex- 
clamation that had burst from the inspector as his eye fell on 
the heap of brilliants wliich had poured from the twin sides of 
the small portfolio. Toppin could not «ee the brilliants from 
his position at the door. Around them like a rampart lay the 
documents belonging to the I. 0. T. A. 

‘‘ Yes, diamonds!" reiterated Brother Neel, with a sneer of 
still greater intensity, at once mocking and deflant — yes, 
diamonds!" 

‘‘ ’Ore nom de nom de noms!” 

In his excitement Mr. Toppin swore with triple force in 
French. It dawned upon him now that these were the Wil- 
mot diamonds, value £20,000. 

The half dozen stones picked up at random by Inspector 
Byde were promptly replaced, and with the rest put back into 
the folding velvet case. ‘ The inspector was not by any means 
a bad judge of precious stones. 

“ Are these your property?" said he, leaning forward, with 
both hands on the table; retaining liis hold, however, on the 
small portfolio. 


198 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

“No, they are not, replied Brother Neel. 

“ Can you account for their being in yom' possession?” 

“Ican/^ 

“ At once, then, please 

“ I can give the clearest account of their being in my tem- 
porary possession — those diamonds, returned Brother Neel, 
deliberately. “ In twenty-four hours I shall be able to fur- 
nish you with the fullest explanation, I think. ” 

“ Twenty-four hours!” 

“ Yes, sir — that’s what I said: twenty-four hours. Perhaps 
less; not more, I should hope.” 

“ I should hope not, too. Try and make it less, Mr. Neel 
— in your own interest, try and make is a good deal tess. They 
don’t allow us little vacations of that sort at Scotland Yard. ” 

“ For the moment I am not my own master.” 

“ Come, come, sir — a detail or two. How did these valua- 
bles pass into your possession?” 

“ I desire to postpone my answer, which will be complete 
and authoritative when I give it.” 

“ did they pass into your possession?” 

“ I must ask you to consider that as bound up with the 
other question. ” 

“ Oh, mysteries, please! You are speaking to police officers. 
Eealize the situation, sir. ” 

“ For the moment I can say no more. Do as you choose. 
I realize the situation — oh, don’t be alarmed, I realize it! In 
a parcel of which I admit the ownership, amid the documents 
of the society employing me, and virtually responsible for my 
character, you find extremely valuable property secreted — for 
that it what it amouhts to, does it not, Mr. Inspector Byde? 
— secreted. The inference is that I have stolen this property, 
or that I am the confederate of the actual thieves. Very well, 
sir. Do as you think proper. I cautioned you at the outset; 
I tell you now that all can be explained to you in, say, twenty- 
four hours. If you can not wait, you can not wait! Take the 
risk. Appearances are with you, although if you trust to 
them you will rue it. I don’t know that I need dread the 
consequences of your hasty action, either for myself or for my 
cause. Do as you wish, Mr. Byde. Place me under arrest. 
I shall be delighted to see you perpetrate another blunder. ” 

Without being aware of it. Brother Neel had hit the in- 
spector on a weak spot. Mr. Byde’s morbid mistrust of “ ap- 
pearances ” has been alluded to before. He took refuge in a 
curt platitude, hoping that the other’s fury might prevent him 
from remaining passive. 


THE PASSEHGEH FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


199 


“ Besides/^ resumed the temperance lecturer, roughly, ‘‘ you 
are in a foreign country, please to recollect. Ha! Place me 
under arrest? You will be careful to keep your hands off me, 
both of you. Where is your warrant to take me into custody? 

I was weak — ^by the Lord Harry, now I think of it — I was in- 
credibly weak! — to yield in the first place to your meddling 
with my personal affairs. Arrest me at your peril !’^ 

“ Toppin can do it in a few minutes, if you^d like to see 
how it^s to be done,’^ observed the inspector. ‘‘ I^m afraid 
you don^t quite grasp the situation yet. A man beheved to 
have had stolen property in his possession was found murdered 
in the mail train which arrived in Paris from London early in 
the morning. The property in question was missing. You, 
who were a traveler by the same train, are now found, on the 
second evening after the murder, to have the missing property 
in your possession: I wonT say ‘ secreted.'’ Now, the French 
police — with whom Mr. Toppin has official relations — are very 
actively occupied in seeking out traces of the crime; and if you 
were indicated to them you may depend upon it that without 
waiting twenty-four minutes, to say nothing of twenty-four 
hours, they would have you under arrest as — ” 

“ What! As a murderer?’^ 

“ As the individual implicated by the circumstances of the 
case. 

‘‘What ! — 1 should be suspected of the murder of that 
man?’^ 

“ That is what would happen if Mr. Toppin, my colleague, 
called them in. That is what will happen, I am afraid; for, 
upon this evidence, unexplained the inspector touched the 
small portfolio — ‘‘ we should be bound to call upon our French 
colleagues. 

‘‘ But as we drove along just now, the evening newspapers 
were announcing the arrest of the assassin.'’^ 

Yes?’^ 

Well, then — how — Brother Neel was about to put an 
obvious question, but suddenly changed his tone. “ That 
could not be — he recoiled, as he gazed from Inspector Byde 
to Detective Toppin, and from Detective Toppin to Inspector 
Byde. 

Oh, no,^^ interposed Toppin, impetuously— a mistake> 
that case!’^ 

This is hard to bear!^^ exclaimed Brother Neel, striking , 
his forehead with one hand, and clinching the other. 

Yes; and we can^’t waste any more time over it,'’^ said the 
inspector, peremptorily. “ Now, I will go further with you 


200 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

than my duty requires me to go. You arrived in Paris yester- 
day morning by the night mad from London, due here at 5 :50. 
Not long after your arrival you returned to the post-office at 
the railway-station — come: you see we know more than you 
imagined! Make your explanation now, and have done with 
it. Otherwise — 

“ I went back to the station post-office,^^ answered Brother 
Neel, readily enough — because I had an urgent telegram to 
send off, and a letter. The letter was addressed to the council 
of the I. 0. T. A., and the telegram to the secretary of the 
I. 0. T. A., informing him that the letter was on its way, and 
begging him to call the members of the council together for 
business of the most important nature. This business is the 
same with regard to which you have demanded explanations. 
The reply from the council may arrive to-morrow morning, or 
at any time I may receive a telegram. My object, however, 
in requesting the delay of twenty-four hours was that I should 
be enabled to wire to the secretary at once, urging him to send 
me back by the very first post my own letter to the council, 
with my own envelope bearing the stamps, post-marks, etc. 
He would, of course, do as I requested, and I should receive 
them back by to-morrow evening — that is to say, in twenty- 
four hours’ time. 

‘‘ What would that prove?” inquired Inspector Byde. 

‘‘ Prove? It would prove — ” The speaker stopped short 
as though he measured his own situation for the first time with 
independent eyes. ‘‘ Well, it would prove my good faith,” 
he went on, with some embarrassment — “ and yet I suppose 
that — I suppose that you would not admit it to prove any- 
thing!” He took a hasty turn or two about the room. “ So 
far as that goes there would be nothing in the contents of my 
letter to the council which you could not learn from me now, 
if — ” He went abruptly to the mantel-piece, poured out a 
glass of water, and drank it nervously. “ I am not my own 
master in this. The I. 0. T. A. must not be compromised, 
and I ought not to move until I hear from them. If they are 
compromised by me — if the cause in general suffers through 
my instrumentality — why, my prospects would be entirely 
ruined! In one moment I should forfeit my position, I should 
lose my means of livelihood. My name is known gn temper- 
ance platforms from one end of England to the other; I 
should be a marked man, and cast out. What would become 
of me? At my age begin life again — how? How? Would 
you have me sink into crime or into genteel mendicancy? 
What work could I offer to perform — what work could I — I 


THE PASSEHGEK PROM SCOTLAIsD YARD. 201 

— tamely sit doTO to and drudge at after so many years 
of — 

“ Ah, things are made very pleasant for you ‘ brethren of 
the temperance bands, observed Mr. Byde, irrelevantly, and 
with a sternness in which his idiosyncrasy asserted itself. “You 
lay down the law to other people quite old enough to decide 
for themselves; you take theh money and spend it on your- 
selves; and you are answerable to nobody but yourselves. I 
don^t wonder that your lazy, prating, selfish life unfits you for 
useful work. ” 

“I see that I must expect no mercy from you. Inspector 
Byde,^"' was the reply. “I see that I must take my risk; I 
see that if I refuse to speak until I receive the sanction I have 
asked for— asked for, loyally — in the very interests of the 
people I serve, and with no other motive — I see that my strug- 
gle with the circumstances of the moment will be of no avail. 
You will do your duty — you do your duty. In the ab- 

sence of explanation from me, you will have to cause my 
arrest. The harm which I am seeking to stave off will be 
done irremediably. Perhaps I shall serve them best by speak- 
ing at once. He refilled the glass, and moistened his lips. 
“ If you could await my letter, you would acknowledge that I 
have acted in good faith — in apparent good faith, I mean, of 
course: oh, I comprehend your bias! If I had any doubts 
whatever upon the subject, the extraordinary observations you 
23ermitted yourself just now would extinguish them. I donT 
know, by the way, whether it forms part of yoiu: duty, Mr. 
Inspector Byde, to lecture your prisoners — the inspector 
waved his hand in deprecation, and, yes, a slight flush mounted 
to his cheeks — “ for that is what my position here amounts 
to! — to lecture your prisoners on their choice of a vocation: 
but allow me to say that an attitude of that kind constitutes a 
gross abuse of your advantage. You will not ' believe my 
story, I suppose. But you shall hear it!^’ 

“As briefly as possible,’^ said the inspector, in a gentler 
tone. 

Brother Neel threw himself into a fauteuil. 

“ I was a passenger from London with the man whose body 
lies at the morgue. I know his name; he told it me in conver- 
sation. He gave me some idea, ostensibly, of his business 
position, too. Between London and Dover — 

“ We are acquainted with your movements during the first 
part of your journey; and only one thing concerns us — how 
did this property pass into your possession?"'^ 

“ You may ask me why I have not come forward to identify 


202 THE PASSENGER ER031 SCOTLAND YARD. 

this man, knowing what I know from his own lips? That is 
one point upon which I preferred to consult the council of my 
society. The deceased and myself were fellow-passengers from 
Calais to Boulogne. There were individuals traveling with us 
whose looks neither of us liked, and whose society we both en- 
deavored to avoid. From a curious incident on the journej’^ I 
half suspected that the deceased was a member of your own 
callings instead of being, as he had related for the benefit of 
us all, a Mr. Remington, residing in the Park Lane neighbor- 
hood. ‘He changed compartments, and I must say that I fol- 
lowed him, preferring his society, at any rate, to that of the 
two individuals with whom he would have left me. The 
deceased had the appearance of a man who had been drinking 
continuously. Toward the latter portion of the journey he 
became extremely drowsy, and could scarcely keep awake. I 
thought he wanted a compartment to himself in order to be 
able to sleep, and when he changed once more I did not move 
from my own compartment, where, indeed, I was alone and 
comfortably installed. From your own information you will 
be aware of the fact, I dare say, that very few passengers had 
traveled by the train. I now come to the first material fact."’"’ 

Inspector Byde had been meditatively sharpening a long lead- 
pencil. Out of his capacious pocket he now extracted a note- 
book of ominously official aspect, and, opening it, sat ready to 
jot down what he might consider of importance in the nar- 
rative. 

Toppin heaved a fluttering sigh. 

‘‘ We had touched for an instant at Creil, which was the last 
of our stoppages before reaching Paris, and about fifteen min- 
utes had elapsed — fifteen or twenty minutes— since we had run 
out of the Creil station. I was leaning back in the corner of 
the compartment, with my face to t& engine, when, even 
above the great noise made by the train as it rushed along at 
full speed, I fancied I heard a detonation close to my ear. 
The traveling-cap I wore enabled me to rest my head against 
the wooden partition, and I suppose that that acted as a sort 
of sounding-board. One report only was what I heard, if in- 
deed it were a report at all. Had we been traveling in the 
day-time I might have concluded that the sound was caused by 
a pebble thrown at the passing train and striking one of the 
windows, or that as we dashed under a bridge a stone or other 
missile had been dropped on to perhaps the metal frame of 
the carriage-lamp. It was barely five, however, on a Decem- 
ber morning, and pitch dark. The detonation, although not 
distinct, had seemed close to my ear, and as I reflected I felt 


THE PASSEHOER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 203 

convinced it was a pistol-shot that I had heard. The French 
guard of the train had once or twice startled me, during the 
earlier part of the journey, by suddenly entering the compart- 
ment from the foot-board for the purpose of examming tickets. 
I don^t know what it was — ^why. I should Have thought of any 
such thing — but a suspicion of foul play forced itself upon my 
mind. The occurrences of the journey had been peculiar — 
the story told by the deceased about the Wilmot diamonds — 
the night arrest at Dover — that young man^s calm protestation 
of innocence — the persistency of the two individuals whom we 
repeatedly met, but who never spoke to us — and then the 
abrupt appearance of the French guard while we were hurry- 
ing through the storm in the dark — all these things influenced 
me, I suppose. I jumped up and went to the far window. 
Letting down the glass and looking out, I could just detect the 
door of, not the next, but the second compartment in my rear, 
swinging open. If the door had swung toward me I could not 
have perceived it. But it opened in the contrary direction to 
my own, and what enabled me to see it was the faiut gleam 
from the lamp on the inner surface of the door, which was 
painted in a light color. The lamp had apparently burned low, 
as in my own compartment. Nothing but this glimmer of 
faint light as the door swayed slightly with the rapid motion 
of the train was distinguishable in the utter gloom. In' my 
place, Mr. Inspector Byde, what would you have done?'^ 

“ Let us get on, sir,^^ said the inspector, fldgeting with the 
lead-pencil. 

Mr. Toppin expanded his chest, and sniffed with remarkable 
significance. 

“Rung the alarm bell, and stopped the train? On what 
ground? What had I to show as justification? A soimd — 
which, after all, was I certain I had heard? — and an open door? 
My own alarm was personal to myself, arose from the condition 
of my own mind, might be due to mere physical fatigue, at 
that moment in the twenty-four hours when the vitality is 
lowest. Had I really, as a matter of fact, heard the detonation 
I imagined I had heard? Had I not been asleep? The open 
door? The door might have been carelessly closed, and left 
unfastened. However, I resolved to see!^^ 

The inspector flattened out his note-book and prepared to 
write. 

“ Yes! In the interests of my own safety, I resolved to see. 
For on the other hand, if it were some deed of violence, a 
sinister plot by the vei-y servants of the railway, my turn 
might arrive next: did I know? I opened the far door of my 


204 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

own compartment and stepped on to the foot-board. It was an 
easy proceeding to pass along outside. The supports available 
for the ticket examiner, as he swung himself from carriage to 
carriage, throughout the entire length of the train, were 
available to me alse^in the few steps I had to make. The car- 
riages rocked and jolted once or twice, and I had to grope my 
way; but I kept my footing without any difficulty. The 
whole affair occupied a few seconds, I should say. Well, 
what did I find? The compartment immediately behind my 
own was empty. The curtains had been drawn down, and 
had been left drawn, but through the window of the door I 
could see that there was no one in the compartment. Arrived 
at the compartment next it, further along, I found the curtain 
drawn there too — but, peering round the edge of the door- 
way, to my amazement, I saw — 

Brother Neel broke off abruptly. The scene he conjured up 
appeared to overwhelm him; or was it that the delicacy of his 
own position now struck him with a paralyzing force? 

‘‘ You saw?^^ demanded the inspector, in a passionless woice, 
as the lead-pencil came to a stand-still. 

“ I saw the figures of two men — and blood, continued the 
narrator, his hushed and slower accents betraying, perhaps 
awe, perhaps horror, perhaps consternation. ‘‘ One of the 
two men had his face turned away from me, and he was stoop- 
ing across the body of the other. He had his back toward 
the door-way of the compartment, and I could see that he was 
searching in the pockets, in the lining even, of the other ^s 
garments. The other lay motionless along the seat. The 
light was dim, but not too dim for me to fail in recognizing 
the features of that other. It was the man whose body has 
been transported to the morgue — the man who had been my 
own traveling companion up to, it seemed, but a few minutes 
previously — the man with whom I had been talking, hour after 
hour, until weariness overcame us both. In spite of the dim 
light, I could discern the look upon his features, as without 
intercepting my view of them, the figure between us- bent still 
lower in the search. On his countenance I saw the look which 
it has ever since retained, the look which you may study at the 
morgue, if studies of the murdered leave but a transitory im- 
press on your mind, my good sir — ‘ Mr. Smithson ^ — ^but the 
look which I need no visit to the morgue to call up; for I see 
it plainly — I can see it now!'’^ Brother Neel flung out his 
arm and started to his feet. “ The eyes were open, and they 
glistened in the dull, yellow light from the lamp above. Blood 
was oozing from a wound in the temple.'’^ 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 205 

“ Blood was oozing from a wound in the temple/’ repeated 
the inspector, in the same passionless tone, as he wrote down 
the words. “ The right temple — or the left?” The ques- 
tion and the glance were like a couple of electric rapier thrusts. 

“ Why — the left, of course,” answered Brother Neel, with 
the natural hesitation of the man who refers to a fixed mental 
image. “ The. deceased was in a recumbent position, on his 
right side, with his back to the engine. My impulse was to 
enter the carriage and seize the man who was leaning over, 
away from me, almost within arm’s length. The conse- 
quences, however, fiashed through my mind. It seemed im- 
probable that the man before me was without confederates. A 
confederate might be watching at that instant: I myself in 
one moment more might — Just then the man appeared to 
have extracted some object from the breast-pocket of the de- 
ceased. He held the object away from him, in his left hand. 
As he extended his arm, the object came within my reach. I 
snatched it from him. The object I speak of was the package 
in white tissue-paper which you have discovered among the 
documents of the society. ” 

“ What happened then?” 

“ The individual in front of me, instead of at once turning, 
made a dash through the carriage to the opposite door, through 
which I imagine he escaped — b^ut on that point I know noth- 
ing. All that I can tell you is that I never saw his face. I 
don’t profess to be a hero. So far as bodily encounters are 
concerned, I should hear myself called a coward with perfect 
equanimity. My youth and early manhood were passed among 
Quakers, and what the world might choose to term poltroonery, 
I could vindicate by the precept or the example of prominent 
members of that faith, one or two even illustrious. I im- 
mediately swung myself back, and retreated along the foot- 
board to my own compartment. The incident had thoroughly 
unnerved me, although it was not at the time, but afterward, 
that I underwent its full effect. With great difficulty I re- 
tained my footing and my hold on making my way back. At 
first it seemed inevitable that I should be pursued. I re- 
mained for several minutes on the alert, ready to ring the 
alarm-bell on the slightest appearance of danger. But no 
single incident arose to excite suspicion or misgiving. The 
night mail thundered onward through the raw air of the black 
winter’s morning. A traveler had been murdered in his sleep, 
but no one knew it — no one but the murderer and myself!” 

Brother Neel’s vocal organ once more aroused the inspector’s 
disinterested admiration. The subdued tones thrilled you 


206 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

quite deliciously. It was hard upon the temperance lecturer 
that though he no doubt spoke the truth, the whole truth, and 
nothing but the truth, as often as most other people, his na- 
tive oratorical gifts gave you constantly the impression that he 
was addicted to the opposite practice, reinforcing the less likely 
of his fictions by the rhetorician^’s graces, the elocutionist's 
art. 

“ Had you no means whatever of identifying the assassin?^ ^ 

‘‘None."" 

“You could not say whether he wore a guard "s uniform or 
not?"" 

“ It was impossible to distinguish anything of the sort."" 

“ Could you say whether he wore a cap or hat?"" 

“ Yes; I can positively state that he was bare-headed. That 
I noticed as he rose from his stooping posture, when I snatched 
the small package from his hand. What light there was fell 
directly on his head. "" ; 

“ Then you can tell us something about this ghostly gentle- 
man after all : whether he wore his hair in long ringlets, or in 
curl papers, whether cropped short, or in a chignon, or whether 
he was bald?"" 

“ He had short, dark hair, like a few millions of other men 
— that is all I can say,"" coldly responded Brother Neel. 

“ When did you examine the contents of the packet?"" 

“Not until I reached my hotel, Kue de Compiegne."" 

“ And what did you find?"" 

“ What you have just found."" 

“ Never mind about me, if you please. My question is, 
what did you find? and be particularly careful about your an- 
swer, because it may be necessary for evidence."" 

“ I found that the case contained loose diamonds of con- 
siderable size. I did not count them; but there were, com- 
paratively speaking, a large number of them. I replaced 
them — "" 

“ All?"" Rapid thrusts in- carte and in tierce. 

“All?"" echoed Brother Neel; “ yes — all!"" 

The iteration and the manner were equivalent to a Touche 
The inspector "s lead-pencil labored across the page. “ I re- 
placed all the diamonds in the case, but did not count them,"" 
he repeated, aloud, reading from his notes; and he added a 
private memorandum in the margin— “ Has probably kept 
some back. 

“ You made no declaration, I believe, to the authorities 
here. May I ask whether you have spoken of this to any per- 
son whatever until now?"" 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


207 


“To no person whatever. But what I did, without a mo- 
ment's loss of time, was to telegraph, as I have said, to the 
secretary of our great society, advising him of the communi- 
cation which would follow by post. That communication I 
duly forwarded, as you are aware. It simply related the 
occurrences I have just described, and requested a suggestion 
or instruction from the council. Until the pouncil directed 
me as to my course of action, I pledged myself to divulge to 
no one the part I had involuntarily played in this mysterious 
crime. You can understand plainly that for the I. 0. T. A. 
to be mixed up, through one of its accredited agents, in a affair 
of this kind, just at the moment when its roots were striking 
deeper into foreign soil, became a matter of the greatest 
gravity. Misapprehension so easily arises; motives can b*e so 
easily misconstrued abroad. What may prove the answer of 
the council I know not. If they had ordered me to preserve 
an absolute silence — resolving to transmit those valuables 
anonymously to the police — I should have obeyed them. Such 
may still prove their answer, for all I can affirm. But we 
have not reckoned with Scotland Yard. Ah, what a terrible 
disaster! these two affairs happening simultaneously — the 
stupid calumnies of that sensational paper, and then this! 
What a catastrophe, great heavens !^^ Brother Neel wrung his 
hands. He had introduced an effective quaver into his notes 
on the lower register. 

“ It^s a pity you neglected to count the stones,'’^ observed 
the inspector, collecting himself for a decisive lunge — “ and 
it^’s a pity you restored them all — all, every one of them — to 
the case; a great pity, really, sir!^^ 

The other kept an unmoved countenance, as he listened. 

“ Because, resumed Mr. Byde, brusquely fixing him with a 
look — “ these diamonds are false !'^ 

There was a dead silence. 

“ Floored, wrote the inspector as a purely private memor- 
andum; “ has kept some of them back. 

“ *Gre nom muttered Toppin. 

The temperance lecturer began an undefined melody in a 
toneless whistle and sunk back into his arm-chair. 

“Just come and look at these articles, Mr. Toppin, will 
you?^^ said the inspector. 

Mr. Toppin advanced with alacrity to the table, and took up 
a few of the scintillating crystals pushed toward him by his 
superior officer. 

“ Well, it"s not a good light for the purpose/^ he remarked. 


308 


THE TASSEHGEE EEOM SCOTLAHB YAED. 


after an examination by the flame of the candle; “hut you^re 
right, inspector, they^re not the real thing. 

“ The real thing was the emphatic reply; “ they’re 
paste!” 

“ The best I ever saw, though,” said Toppin. 

“ Yes,” concurred the inspector; “ good, and no mistake, 
but paste. It must be a new process. ” 

“ Well, then, gentlemen,” exclaimed Brother Neel, spring- 
ing briskly to his feet — “ how do we stand?” 

“ Why, there’s a prima facie case against you, sir,” re- 
turned Mr. Byde. “ And what makes it worse is that you de- 
manded twenty-four hours’ grace. These are imitation stones, 
are they not? Well, an ignorant policeman might conjecture 
that the genuine ones were in the hands of a confederate. 
The confederate could skip across the frontier on a twenty- 
four hours’ notice, or, if already in Amsterdam, could throw 
the diamonds into the market at a slight loss of value but no 
loss of time. Oh, dear me! — what a pity you did not keep one 
or two of them back — just one or two — as specimens!” 

“ I regret the omission,” said Brother Neel, reddening. 
“ You are not going to accuse me, I presume, of being en- 
gaged in a dishonest transaction, such as that, with a confeder- 
ate? The mere suggestion is disgraceful. Whether they are 
spurious or genuine, the stones you have there are the stones 
I found in the case that lies before you. The parcel has been 
out of my own custody, that is true. But the seals were in- 
tact when it came into my hands again, and I do not see how 
it could have been tampered with, or why — even admitting a 
possibility of such conduct on the part of my colleague, Mr. 
Bamber, which I do not admit.” 

“ Of course you can see what those facts involve — with re- 
gard to the perpetration of the crime you have narrated?” 

“ That a murder was committed to obtain possession of 
paste diamonds? Yes, that must be the inference, I suj^pose. 
The murderer knew of some such objects as these being in the 
possession of the deceased, I suppose, and erroneously believed 
them to be genuine diamonds. ” 

“ Ah, but we are advised that the deceased was most proba- 
bly in unlawful possession, likewise. Had he, also, been de- 
ceived? The merchandise is good, I don’t deny it, but not so 
good as all that — come! And the fact is undeniable that the 
AVilmot diamonds, represented by these things, are missing — 
under circumstances that connect the deceased mth their ab- 
straction. ” 

“ Well, those are matters for yourselves, gentlemen. They 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 209 

don^t concern me. I can^t engage in the detection of crime 
with you. The articles before you are compromising articles; 
that I understood from the outset. You have asked me how 
they came into my possession, and why I wanted to defer my 
explanation; I have told you. Now, Mr. Byde, sir — pray what 
does your duty require you to do?^^ 

“Just see if you can recollect whether, between your ac- 
quisition of this package and the moment at which you lodged 
it with your colleague, it did not pass out of your opntrol? 
My duty doesn't require me to put this to you; and you 
needn't answer unless you like." 

His recollection was clear enough on the subject, said Broth- 
er Neel. So long as the property remained in his personal 
keeping he was in danger; that he had very speedily realized. 
And until he should receive the instructions of the council of 
the I. 0. T. A. he stood absolutely at his own devices. He 
had therefore with great care examined the chances of his own 
situation. It had seemed to him that if he carried about with 
him such valuable property as this property had appeared to 
be, he would be exposing himself needlessly to risks of an ex- 
traneous character. A street accident — anything — might un- 
expectedly bring to light the nature of the package; while if he 
had been identified as a passenger by the night mail, and if 
he had been temporarily detained and searched, the discovery 
of the supposed diamonds would have inculpated him tre- 
mendously. He had concluded that it would be safer, of the 
two courses, to leave the package in his portmanteau, locked, 
at the hotel. Tliis he had done, arguing — to be quite frank 
with Inspector Byde — that the presence of the property in liis 
luggage did not necessarily inculpate him. It might have 
been placed there, somehow, by some one else, who — having 
kept back a portion of the suppositious valuables — sought to 
definitively exclude himself from the scope of possible suspicion 
by directly implicating some third person. Why should not 
the guards of the train, or one of them, have done this? His 
luggage had been registered through, and from London to 
Paris he had not once set eyes on it. Not a bad story, that! 
concluded Brother Neel, cynically. 

“ Not at all," approved Inspector Byde. 

It had afterward occurred to him that a more secure deposi- 
tory would be desirable than a locked portmanteau in a room 
at an hotel. He did not know that the lock of his own port- 
manteau was a particularly difiicult one; and the servants of 
the hotel — 

“ The servants?" burst forth Toppin, his countenance 


210 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

illumining— the servants?— that^s it!"^ In two strides he 
was at the inspector's elbow. “ That anarchist fellow, he 
whispered, almost inaudibly to the inspector himself, although 
he bent down close to the latter^s ear and walled in his words 
with his hand. ‘‘ That anarchist!'^ 

Well?” growled Mr. Byde, in real anger at his colleague's 
exclamation. 

“ Picked the lock and stole the genuine. Put the paste in, 
jjour dormer le change,’^ 

‘‘Pooh! Nonsense!” returned the inspector, loudly. 
“ Nonsense!” he repeated, as if endeavoring to undo the effect 
of Mr. Topping’s outburst. “ A great pity you replaced the 
property intact, sir,'’^ he continued, in a bluff and jovial man- 
ner; “ a great pity you did not put by one or two, say, just as 
specimens? Did you ever find your portmanteau unlocked, on 
returning to your room?” 

“ Yes — once. It was just before I made up that parcel in 
order to leave it at the offices of the I. 0. T. A., Boulevard 
Ilaussmann, in a place of safety.” Brother Neel related the 
circumstance with which the reader is acquainted. He had 
simply gone down to breakfast at the table d^hote, after hav- 
ing, as he thought, secured his portmanteau as usual. When 
he got back into the room he discovered that he must have 
failed to turn the key in the lock, after all; because the port- 
manteau was mifastened. He had had a momentary misgiv- 
ing, but the package was all right, and so were its contents. 
It was then that he hastened to convey it to a place of greater 
safety. With regard to the observation by the inspector's 
colleague, just now, of course the hotel servants had access to 
his apartment. The servant who answered his beU, as a rule, 
was the man they had both seen that evening. The man who 
did not speak English — the anarchist. 

“ One word more, if you please. Was it part of your sys- 
tem, Mr. Neel, to deny, categorically, at the morgue, that you 
preserved the slightest recollection of the deceased?” 

“Just so. A lie, was it not? But it appears to have been 
a part of your own system to present yourself as a Mr. Smith- 
son, strongly interested in the welfare of the I. 0. T. A. : a 
lie also, was it not?” 

“ Well, yes,” responded the inspector, making his prepara- 
tions to depart, “ and my conscience is black with lies of that 
description, I^m afraid. ‘ ^Tis my vocation, Hal,^ as Byron 
says. I hope that in the business which you follow, sir, you 
are under no similar obligation of lying frequently, and with a 
plausible face.” 


THE PASSEHCtER FROM SCOTLAHB YARD. 


211 


They were all ready to acconipany the inspector whither he 
listed. Mr. Byde regretted that the hour for the second talle 
cVhote was past. Possibly they might secure some dinner, all 
the same, at the Hotel des Nations; for that was the spot to 
which they must now repair. For the present he and Mr. 
Toppin would be under the necessity of imposing their society 
upon Brother Neel. 

“ There will he no scandal, I trust, urged the temperance 
lecturer. “You Scotland Yard men — 

“ At Scotland Yard, sir, we are men of business — and gen- 
tlemen. It is not we who make scandals. 

“ Because, you know, I warn you! The I. 0. T. A. will 
suffer in my person; and we have powerful influences — people 
who would not dream of, perhaps — with us in the I. 0. T. A. 
Our grand worthy master — 

“ Oh, say no more about that body, I begT^ The inspector 
led the way to the door. “ The I. 0. T. A., sir, and its grand 
worthy masters!'’^ he retorted, stopping with his fingers on tlie 
handle; “ I donT recognize their existence, sir, I donT know 
them. Brother Neel may be concerned in this case, and that^s 
all I can report -about. As for I. 0. T. A. '’s, they Ve no more 
to do with this affair than — than — the inspector hesitated, 
at a loss for his parallel — “ than the pons asinorum, sir! Un- 
less, indeed, this particular I. 0. T. A. should turn out to be 
organized receivers of stolen property : in which case we shall 
require to have before us a very great deal with respect to the 
extent of their powerful influences !^^ 
norn!” ejaculated Toppin. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

Mr. Byde was met, as he descended with his companions 
into the vestibule of the Terminus Hotels by the traveled 
waiter who had moved in the patrician spheres of Battersea. 

“ A lettaire,'’^ said that accomplished linguist, “ a lettaire 
for Mistaire Bydee which have been leave. The superscrip- 
tion on the note he handed to the inspector was in a feminine 
handwriting. 

“ Why,"' ^ exclaimed Toppin, jocularly, “this is our] friend 
who canT stand the police! — never could stand them — no one 
in the family has ever been able to endure them. Hates the 
police and eveiything connected with them!^^ 

“ vous savez/' answered the student of the English 
social system, as he beamed and raised his eyebrows, and 
brought one shoulder up under his ear, in a shrug of gratified 


212 THE PASSENGER EROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

protest — “ voKS savez — there are those little weaknesses that 
run in the blood! It^s that, or Ik’s this: like a predisposition 
to a malady — Hens f Some people will inherit the germs of 
scrofula; others abhor black beetles and rats. Moi — I — it^s 
policemen: je nei^eux ‘pas les voir en peinture I That is how 
lam — c^est plus fori que moi 

“ A nice old cup of tea you are!^^ Mr. Toppin spoke with 
the disgusting familiarity in which at times he would permit 
himself to indulge, and he pinched the waiter’s frail forearm 
between his finger and thumb. “ How are they getting along 
at the prefecture?” 

I beck parton?” Relapsing into the English language, 
the speaker threw an alarmed look behind him; but there was 
no one to overhear. “ The lady have wait in her carriage 
reply,” he hastened to inform Inspector Byde. 

“ Come here,” proceeded Mr. Toppin, with insular brutal- 
ity; “ whom do you think you’ve been getting at? The next 
time you go down to the prefecture, you tell Monsieur Hy that 
you’ve made my acquaintance — that is to say, the acquaint- 
ance of Mr. Detective Thomas Toppin, of the English Siirete 
— Yes! And don’t you talk so much about the police. You’re 
overdoing it, young fellur!” 

Mr. Toppin was superb, just now. If anything, he was the 
junior of the two; but he had the assurance which accompanies 
mediocrity. When he said a thing, he not only looked as if 
he meant it, every word of it, but as if he meant a good deal 
more than that, out of consideration for his hearer, he would 
wish to put into words. He did not, as a rule, however, mean 
very much more than he actually expressed, to do him justice. 
He was a remarkably fine young man, with — by nature — a 
portentous cast of countenance; and he always imposed upon 
other mediocrities, and sometimes upon quite superior persons. 

The recipient of the missive hurried through the vestibule 
and crossed the pavement outside. A private carriage stood 
waiting nearly opposite the hotel entrance. 

I’m so sorry to trouble you, Mr. Byde,” said Mrs. Ber- 
tram, as she approached the window — ‘‘ but you must lay the 
blame on this willful young lady here. She would insist upon 
our calling to see if you had any news, and we have come ex- 
pressly. There! — now justify yourself, Adela!” 

“ Oh, have you any news, Mr. Byde?” exclaimed Miss Knoliys, 
her profile suddenly emerging from the deep shadow. You 
haven’t any bad news, have you?” In the young lady’s accent 
the inspector distinguished that he was implored not to have 
bad news to communicate. I feel sure there ought to be no 


THE PASSEHGER FROM SCOTEAHI) YARD. 213 

bad news — but the suspense is terrible. The full rays of the 
carriage lamps fell on the inspector's face as he listened, but 
the obscurity of the interior shrouded both occupants from his 
own view. The figure of Miss Knollys appeared the vaguest 
of outlines to him. When she had impulsively bent forward, 
the bright eyes which he had seen filled with tears glistened 
clearly through the gloom; and, now, as a little half -nervous, 
half-apologetic laugh ended her appeal, the dark shadow seemed 
to be touched by one transient ray from a star. 

Yes, he would certainly do whatever he could — ^whatever he 
could— for a charming young lady like this, thought Mr. Byde: 
a charming young My, so — Eh? AVhy, what on earth — ! 
Two or three favorite couplets rose up simultaneously to re- 
buke him. And indeed a pretty frame of mind for the sys- 
tematic opponent of impressionism! What if the young peo- 
ple were blessed with good looks — where was the sense — 

“ Where’s the sense, direct and moral, 

That teeth are pearl, or lips are coral?” 

What had he to do with- the charms of young ladies person- 
ally interested in the results of his' investigations — with their 
charms and with their woes? Very unfortunate for this Mr. 
Sinclah’, if he found he could not prove* that— 

‘‘ Ah — you have bad news — that was what I feared — and I 
was right to come! Something has happened! I knew — I 
knew — that something must have happened. Tell me what 
it is: I have a right to know! — or let us telegraph, dear Mrs. 
Bertram — let us telegraph to Austin that we know he has been 
concealing something from i;s, and that we want to hear the 
worst!" 

‘‘ Ladies, I assure you — " began the inspector. 

My dear, I see no reason why you should imagine that Mr. 
Sinclair has kept back the worst from you. On the contrary, 
his letter was exceedingly frank — not only frank, but sensible 
and business-like. He told you plainly the position which the 
arrest placed him in, as far as he could ascertain it, at the mo- 
ment; and to-day he telegraphs, repeating that he can soon 
dispose of the entire ridiculous charge." 

“ Yes, but I know he has done that out of thoughtfulness!" 
persisted Miss Adela Knollys. 

Well, it was abominable, refiected the inspector, if this 
young gentleman, Mr. Sinclair, were being detained in custody 
without sufficient cause. To stop a man on suspicion when he 
was leaving the country might be one thing, but to keep him like 
that when they had had ].)lenty of time to examine the circum- 


214 THE PASSENGER PROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

stances against him was quite another, especially looking to the 
exhaustive character of his (Byde^s) own reports, and the hints 
he had therein furnished. Another case of “ appearances,^^ 
he supposed. Appearances!” He detested the term. They 
they could be so easily invented, fabricated, or maliciously 
combined — appearances! Yes, he would certainly do what- 
ever he could to wind this case up sharp, and to help that 
young gentleman in bringing forward his proofs. It was no 
fault of his (Byde's) that the young lady before him was at- 
tractive. 

Mr. Byde — ” implored the young lady. 

He .would help him. And if the arrest had been an error — 
another good blow at the impressionists! 

“You %o%U be candid with me, wonT you, Mr. Byde?^^ 

Thus beset, the inspector unscrupulously took refuge in the 
fluent phrases of the hopeful friend. So far as positive in- 
formation went, he really did not know that for the moment 
he had anythmg to impart which could in the slightest degree 
affect Mr. Austin Sinclair prejudicially; he might go further 
and say that certain researches upon which he, together with 
an extremely able colleague — Detective Toppin, stationed per- 
manently in Paris by Scotland Yard — was at tliis very minute 
actively engaged, might not impossibly procure the uncondi- 
tional release of Mr. Sinclair before the expiration of another 
fortnight — or, perhaps, ten days — perhaps less. A long time? 
Yes, it did seem long, no doubt; but we must not be impa- 
tient. We must be patient. Things were seldom done well 
which were done overquickly. And then at any instant fresh 
intelligence might reach him from London. For all he knew 
Mr. Sinclair was triumphantly establishing his utter ignorance 
of the Park Lane diamond robbery while they — he, Mr. Byde, 
and the two ladies with whom he cordially sympathized — ^were 
now conversing on that very spot. Of course the connection 
of Mr. Sinclair with the diamond robbery was absurd, prepos- 
terous, a totally untenable hypothesis — of course ! How cotild 
it be? Why, it could not possibly be! Mr. Sinclair would 
soon be discharged for want of evidence. The only conceiv- 
able witness against him was the man who had since been mur- 
dered: he asked pardon for putting the case in a rather hard, 
practical manner, but that was the way in which it would be 
put by the authorities over there, and it was best to look at 
the least favorable aspect of matters like this now, wasnT it? 
Why, yes. Therefore, we must be patient. We must repose 
our faith in justice, and trust to the right arm of the law. As 
for Mr. Stanislas Wilmot, who laid false informations with 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 215 

malice aforethought, and to compass private objects deliber- 
ately sent the department astray, that gentleman might be 
called on for an explanation of his conduct and for redress; 
and it might be worth while instituting some inquiries as to the 
history of the Hatton Garden -firm, the nature of its transac- 
tions, and a good deal more. Diamond “ faking had been 
managed pretty extensively for some time past. The depart- 
ment had not yet hit upon the precise source of the larger 
‘‘ faked diamonds that had been passed off on buyers; but 
they were on the lookout for diamond merchants with laljora- 
tories attached to their domiciles or business premises. These 
yellow Cape stones, treated with chemicals so as to appear 
brilliants of the purest water, had been turning up too often 
lately; and Mr. Stanislas Wilniot might find occasion one of 
these days to regret that he had drawn upon himself the notice 
of Scotland Yard. 

Miss Knollys apparently deemed it not incompatible with 
consistency to inveigh anew against her guardian, and, in the 
same breath, to plead for him very earnestly with Inspector 
George Byde. Her interposition to the latter effect completed 
the surrender of Detective Toppings colleague. He could only 
respond with a few more soothing aphorisms and sanguine 
' pledges. 

Mrs. Bertram said that they had purposely deferred their 
dinner-hour that evening in order to be able to make their call 
at the inspector's address. Would Mr. Byde do her the pleas- 
ure of returning to dine at the Avenue Marceau? The in- 
spector hastily excused himself, at once explaining the urgency 
of the situation. It might be that he had already lingered too 
long; but the an]aety of persons intimately concerned in the 
welfare of Mr. Austin Sinclair was of course quite explicable, 
and it gratified him beyond measure to have gained the confi- 
, dence of ladies who — of ladies that — of ladies whom — ladies, 
in short, whom it was a real pleasure to serve. 

“ Oh, yes, we have the greatest confidence in you — the very 
greatest came from the shadowy form in the Cimmerian 
corner. Did he understand that Mr. Sinclair had telegraphed 
during the afternoon — in good spirits.^ In excellent spirits, 
replied the elder lady; it would be “ all right, he believed, in 
a day or two: and that signified a great deal, from what she 
knew of Mr. Sinclair. He was not at all inclined to take 
either optimist or pessimist views of events; he looked at a 
matter steadily, weighed everything on both sides, and then 
gave you just what he thought about it; although it might be 
that in a case like this — yes, she would not say it was impossi- 


216 THE PASSEKGEIl FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

blc — lie might have departed from his custom, out of consid- 
eration for them both. It might be that he had assumed this 
cheerfulness in order to spare them the increased alarm which 
an exact statement of his position might excite in them. 

“ Wehl prove an alibi for him/"' cried the inspector, gayly. 

Could the speaker be George Byde, of the Y Division? Such 
frivolity as this in an allusion to a grave affair — such an as- 
tounding indifference to principle! A sad, a melancholy out- 
look, if scientific methods were to be employed to serve im- 
pressionism! 

‘‘ Whatever happens, urged Mrs. Bertram, as the inspector 
turned to see if Mr. Toppin and Brother Neel were still wait- 
ing at the hotel entrance, you would not leave Paris without 
paying us a visit, I tfust?’^ 

Mr. Byde promised to do his utmost, whatever happened, to 
make a visit, though perhaps a brief one, at the Avenue Mar- 
ceau. But much would depend upon the occurrences of the 
next twelve hours. He had unexpected indications with re- 
spect to the present whereabouts of the missing property itself, 
and he coidd not pronounce whether, at this time on the fol- 
lowing day, he should be on French soil at all. 

“ Oh, really I’ ^ exclaimed both ladies in breathless admira- 
tion. 

Might be across the frontier to-morrow; might be on the 
other side of the Channel again. Mr. Byde began to fidget; 
he had stayed, too long. 

“ Might have to leave at once for Amsterdam,^'’ he added, 
as he bade his visitors adieu — ‘‘ or by first train for London. 

‘‘ Oh, how clever you must be!’"' said Mrs. Bertram. 

Thank you so much,P issued in a tremulous tone from the 
corner beyond. 

The profile suddenly re-emerged from the deep shadow, and 
a gloved hand advanced toward the inspector. He took the 
slender hand mechanically in his own broad palm, and pressed 
the yielding fingers, whose warmth faintly penetrated through 
their glove, just as he used to press the wasted fingers of his 
own little daughter. May — when every morning the poor 
child begged him to come back soon and read some more of 
the story to her at her bedside: the bedside to which he had 
one day returned to burst into a flood of tears. 

The carriage rolled away, and the inspector, struck down by 
a reminiscence, stood motionless at the edge of the pavement, 
staring vacantly before him. As there was no object that 
could be discerned in the obscurity by Detective Toppin, whose 
eyes were yomiger than those of his superior officer, that zeal- 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 217 

ous representative of the English police concluded that his col- 
league was a gay old dog, and half made his mind up to be 
facetious with him. 

“ Aha, inspector! — would you — would you!^^ he had a good 
mind to say to him — That'^s how you carry on when you 
come over to Paris, inspector, is it? Fll tell Scotland Yard 
about you! And a married man, too! Aha — aha! Go along 
with you, you monster! Has ladies drive up in their carriages 
to see him at his hotel, and gets that fetched by them that 
he^s struck all of a heap, he is!^’ 

Mr. Toppin more than half resolved to step up to the in- 
spector and accost him in this friendly strain. Perhaps, on 
the whole, he had better not, he reflected; the inspector 
mightn’t like it, all things considered, ^^o, it would be bet- 
ter to take no notice of the circumstance; he’d pretend he 
hadn’t been looking that way at all. 

It was with an air of strictly professional deference that 
Mr. Thomas Toppin greeted liis colleague, when the latter, 
shaking off that cruel arrow from the quiver of the past, turned 
to resume the work of Inspector Byde. Brother Heel had been 
fretting impatiently; which Mr. Toppin regarded as but nat- 
ural, being himself quite ready for his dinner. 

In silence they proceeded to the Eue de Oompiegne, Hotel 
des Hations. As they halted at this establishment. Detective 
Toppin reminded his superior officer that he might count upon 
his, Toppin’s, assistance in the task of cross-examining the 
anarchist. “As safe as houses, it’s the anarchist,” repeated 
Mr. Toppin. 

“Just tell me the number of your apartment here,” said 
Mr. Byde to their companion. 

“ My apartment is Ho. 21,” answered Brother Heel, some- 
what loftily. 

“We should like to glance over your register for the jDast 
week,” observed the inspector to the lady president of the 
bureau. “We have been expecting friends, and very likely 
they have stopped here, on passing through.” 

The book was duly placed before them by the fascinating 
widowed Parisian spinster, whose nods and becks and wreathed 
smiles diminished with abruptness at the spectacle of Mr. Top- 
pin’s obduracy. The inspector ran his finger down the names 
inscribed along the pages since the arrival of Brother Heel. 

“ There’s a handwriting that looks as if it were disguised,” 
he remarked to his subordinate, indicating one of the more re- 
cent entries. 

“ So it does,” concurred his subordinate. 


218 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

Brother Neel, who chafed quite noticeably under the restraint 
imposed upon him, was for adjourning to his apartment ‘‘ to 
procure some 1. O. T. A. documents, wliile the two gentle- 
men from Scotland Yard were searching the hotel register. 
He muttered that he would rejoin them in a moment, with 
the documents in question, and in his impatience had begun to 
ascend the staircase before the inspector could arrest his prog- 
ress. 

Mr. Byde called him back in a peremptory manner, and, 
speaking yith greater sternness than he had hitherto employed, 
told the temperance lecturer in an under-tone that if he did 
not wish to force them into disagreeable measures he would do 
well to consider himself no longer free to act as he might 
clioose. Although not formally in custody, for the time being 
he was morally their prisoner. Circumstances might bring to 
a speedy termination the existing unpleasant state of affairs; 
but in the meantime Brother Neel must not delude himself. 
Until he might be requested by the inspector, or by the col- 
league acting with him, to procure from his apartment any 
documents relating to the I. 0. T. A., he would be good 
enough to forget the I. 0. T. A., so far as the case at present 
occupying their close attention was concerned. It might or 
might not become necessary to search Brother NeeFs apart- 
ment, No. 21. He would doubtless aid them usefully in 
searching it. He could not be permitted, however, to make a 
visit to the apartment in advance. 

“But if you suspect that man — that anarchist man,^^ ob- 
jected Brother Neel, with a slight trace of uneasiness, “ you 
don^’t suppose that he has chosen my room for the concealment 
of anything 

“ Oh, come, sir — pray don’t argue our inquiry for us. Do 
as I beg of you, please!” 

Brother Neel slowly retraced his steps. 

The handwriting to which the inspector had referred, un- 
doubtedly, as Toppin now commented, bore the appearance of 
having been laboriously disguised. The characters all leaned 
backward. In the particulars which set forth that the subject 
of the entry — a young gentleman of a by no means unfamiliar 
patronymic — was of English nationality, and was traveling 
northward, from the Mediterranean, without a passport, there 
were “ r’s,” “ s’s,” and “ t’s,” in considerable abundance. 
Prom whatever cause — through inadvertence or haste — hardly 
by design — the “r’s”and “ t’s ” had been formed in two 
different manners, while the “ s’s ” looked suspiciously elabor- 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 219 

ate, and the capital letters, also, seemed either crude or florid 
to excess. 

Whenever you like, about that anarchist,^’ said Mr. Top- 
pin. “ I know enough to make out that it^s on the business 
of his lodge we want to see him.'’^ 

. Mr. Byde politely addressed himself to the ex-‘‘ Parisienne.'’^ 
She had ensconced herself within the stifling boundaries of her 
bureau, and was doing her best to show her contempt for three 
booby foreigners who could not summon up responsive glances 
for a still handsome woman — was she not still handsome? 
ParUeVt / Handsome enough for stupid English, whose wives 
and daughters had projecting upper teeth, large feet, and not 
an inch of padding inside their clothes where padding ought to 
be ! She bit her lips as Mr. Byde respectfully pushed open the 
door of the asphyxiating bureau; bit them well to make them 
once more ripely red — irresistible perdition, as her last ad- 
mirer, the Baron X. , who absconded with her savings used to 
madly say — and she smiled upon the timorous intruder with 
the winning grace, the encom’aging tenderness, that resides in 
wrinkles along a sheet of parchment. 

Mr. Byde rather fancied, he began with a flattering show of 
embarrassment, that this entry — or the other, just below it — 
might refer to one of the friends whom they were anxious to 
encounter during their passage through Paris. The name in 
one case, at least, appeared to indicate the fact — that name, 
there, in the curious handwriting, all backward; it was no un- 
common name, to be sure, but at the same time, if the gentle- 
man was — how was he, now, in point of age? 

Oh, that? That was No. 19, believed the lady president, 
affably scanning the virile features of Inspector Byde. In one 
second, one little second only, she could make sure of the fact 
by a reference to her own book. 

No. 19? And Brother NeePs apartment was the adjoim 
ing chamber. No. 21!' 

Yes, it was as she had supposed, continued the quondam idol 
of the Baron X. The person in question occupied the No. 19. 
An invalid. Young. Had arrived in Paris by an early morn- 
ing train, and was too feeble in health to quit his room. Trh 
comme il fcmt ; had behaved most generously in the matter of 
gratuities — at least the elderly gentleman, his friend, had be- 
haved, on his behalf, very generously: because the elderly gen- 
tleman was relieving the shattered young invalid of all the 
trouble incident upon traveling, and had given in the first 
place all the necessary orders for liim. Hid monsieur think it 


220 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

might be his own acquaintance, this young gentleman who 
was ill? 

Inspector Byde really shrunk from again disturbing made- 
moiselle, but— ^ 

Comment done, clier monsieur I — mais, comment done ! Was 
she not there to answer the queries of visitors like monsieur? 
How she regretted that monsieur had not addressed himself 
earher to the bureau for information! If she could have 
known, when monsieur called before, that he was seeking for 
some friends who had most likely stopped, at the hotel — ^what 
an unfortunate oversight! It would have been so easy, just to 
cast her eye through the register, and to save monsieur from 
imnecessaiy displacement — seeing that ho had doubtless been 
engaged in inquiries for his acquaintance with the ordinary 
name; which would of course involve journeys and calls, 
though not outside the limits of the neighborhood, if the ac- 
quaintance of monsieur were known to have determined to de- 
scend at some hotel in the vicinity of the Xorthern Terminus 
— it would have been so simple to have directed monsieur to 
this very No. 19, which was, tenez, just the next room to the 
large chamber tenanted by M. Is ill Id ! 

The inspector resumed, in his very best composite French, 
that he was desole — no, but, desole positively — to intrude and 
thus monopolize the valuable time which mademoiselle — 

Ah, monsieur — ^too happy — 

“ Which, mademoiselle, dont la gracieusete—^ 

‘‘ Oh, monsieur I’"* 

And empressement and kindly egards, joined to — might he 
say it — ahem! — charms of manner and — 

_h_h— h! 

A most superior man — oh, truly, a man of quite superior 
qualities! He could not be an English, like the clod who stood 
in the vestibule out there, his companion. Now she looked 
at him, this one was certainly the better of the two; and how 
could she have passed him over? About the middle-age, this 
one, she should imagine: widower, from the softness of the 
sidelong glance: rich? 

"WTiy, there were even visitors at this actual moment in the 
Iso. 19, she responded to the question with which the inspector 
at len^h wound up — ^yes, visitors who had come, to dinner 
with the young gentleman who was ill. There were — ^let us 
see how many — two, yes, two visitors to the occupant of iso. 
19; and they had been here some little time, seeing that covers 
for the three had been ordered for service in the apartment itself 
upstairs, at the time they w^ere preparing to serve their taile 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 331 

dlwte do\vu-stairs, at 6 :30. Would monsieur wish to send up 
a message to the No. 19, or possibly to go and see them? It 
would be so easy just to go and see: and even though they 
should not prove to be the acquaintances of monsieiu* — when 
you were compatriots, n'est-ce pas ? Perhaps, however, mon- 
sieur was not himself an Enghsh? 

Mr. Byde answered rather absently that Britain was in fact 
his nation. Before his mental vision had loomed indistinctly 
the letters Q. E. F. A choice of courses lay before him: 
which should he decide upon? ‘‘ Q. E. F. What magic 
in those characters! He tasted his triumphs in advance; in 
advance, he tasted his repose; he saw himself already back in 
Camberwell; already blissful, on a well-earned leave of ab- 
sence; already lolling in his own arm-chair, with a long clay 
pipe in his left hand — oh, for a whiffi at a sweet long clay! and 
ohj for a draught of that broMm old ale — while within pre- 
hensory distance of his right would Lie the battered and dis- 
carded school-books of his bpy. Mild was the effulgence of the 
inspector's eye. Picturing again those evening classes at the 
Institute (corner of the Terrace), dreamily he smiled. 

The ex-beauty — alas! she had never abdicated, she had been 
deposed, and it was long ago — resolved that for that smile, 
and for that look, the wealthy widower might be pardoned his 
nationality. He would undoubtedly ‘‘ ask her,^^ if he got into 
the way of coming to the hotel. She should say — yes. Well, 
why not? Had she not once had her apartment in the Avenue 
de Vniiers? had she not once been the typical Parisienne (whose 
parents lived in the country), and had not one of the boulevard 
journals once rapturously described one of her midsummer 
toilets, the description having been loyally paid for, notwith- 
standing the exorbitant tariff? 

Which of the two courses ought he to follow? mused Mr. 
Byde, turning toward the glass partition, through which he 
could contemplate the physiognomy of Brother Neel. 

Either a bachelor, or a widower, or divorced from his wife, 
that was immistakable, argued the dowager Parisienne, ex- 
queen of so many emigrated subjects — some of whom had been 
quite respectable members of the aristocracy. Rich, also, he 
must no doubt be. AU these hisulaires were rich; and the 
richest were those who pretended to be poor. If he hadnT 
been unattached, he wouldnT have looked at her like that; be- 
cause it was an earnest, serious look — from the heart, she 
thought : lafi, why not? — the sort of look she had often slighted 
in the past; a very different sort of article from that other 
look she had likewise frequently encountered in the past, with- 


222 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

out frequently slighting it — the furtive, hut, oh! quite com- 
prehensible scintillation from the insurrectionary helot of the 
marriage vow. She should say — yes! Then she would find 
out the whereabouts of the Baron X. He had always adored 
her; and for his conduct there was every excuse — ^he had never 
been accustomed to be short of money. And if he had ab- 
sconded with her savings, which had rolled up to a goodly sum 
— an unclean heap, like a huge miiy snowball — had she not 
begun it.^ Had she not in the first place relieved him of the 
financial remnant left him by her predecessors — angels who by 
no happy lot could ever be entertained unawares, their enter- 
tainment involving riot and disorder, and their pampered ap- 
petites rejectmg banquets of unleavened bread. She had 
plunged him into irredeemable debt, and after a time he had 
grown tired of living upon her mere bounty: or — ^no, it would 
be impossible that he should have eloped with some one else! 
WasnT there every excuse for him? And he was a real, real 
baron — no 7'asfoquouere I When she had said “Yes,^^ she 
would find him out; and how they would enjoy themselves 
with the money of this English — ^who, after all, did not seem 
to have more than six — mettons sixteen — ^words to say for him- 
self! Stupid, after all, everyone of them, these insulars! All 
the better! She would have no difficulties to vanquish — and 
if he came back to the hotel for a few days! And even sup- 
posing he should be married already in his own land? Was a 
Parisienne to be withstood? A little divorce case, with the 
wife as the petitioner, would end quite nicely for herself and 
for the Baron X. She bit her lower lip savagely, and smiled 
to show its redness off against her even teeth; forgetting that 
the path of time is everywhere. 

What on earth could she be smiling at— this good lady? 
wondered the inspector. 

He had decided upon his plan of action. Benjamin should 
be extricated from his compromising situation, if it could be 
done decently. The old boy might or might not have been 
mixed up actively in this affair; but he would try and bring 
him off, unless the old boy had gone too far. The inspector 
fancied there was not much room for doubt as to the identity 
of the three persons now carousing in the apartment of No. 19. 
Ah, he should soon affix ‘‘ Q. E. to the foot of the prob- 
lem! 

And it was in his most business-like manner — with an air 
which immediately took a story from the superstructure of the 
castle run up hastily in Spain — that the inspector ventured to 
request mademoiselle do7it Vamalilite, etc., to send up to the 


THE PASSEKCtETI FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


223 


No. 19 with a message. If one of the two visitors were a M. 
de Bingham, by hazard, there was a gentleman down-stairs 
who desired to see him on insurance business, a gentleman 
from the Boulevard Haussmann. 

While the commission was being executed, Mr. Byde and his 
two companions sought out quiet places in the dining-room. 
It was perhaps a proof of the inspector's absorption in his task 
that he allowed Mr. Thomas Toppin to direct their repast. 
Mr. Toppin had not borne the delay with the best grace in 
the world. How far could Byde have gone with this inquiry, 
he would like to know, if he, Toppin, had not been at his 
elbow? And here was Byde, in spite of his fine promises, 
keeping him down, as they all did with young fellows of 
promise — these men who had succeeded, when they found they 
had the young fellow of promise under their orders. Byde 
meant to keep him out of it, now it came to the pinch, 
although the key to this unexpected puzzle in the affair had 
positively been supplied by Toppin himself. 

“ Let me know when I am to interrogate the anarchist for 
you,^^ pronounced Toppin, majestically. 

“ I) n the anarchist, said his superior officer. 

“ The anarchist? D n the anarchist?'^ 

“ Yes, d n the anarchist; the anarchist be d d!^^ re- 

plied the inspector, tranquilly; plagiarizing from his miscellane- 
ous reading a famous anathema once launched against the 
Queen of Carthage, daughter of Belus, King of Tyre. 

‘‘ The anarchist? Why, I thought— Mr. Toppings heart 
swelled in his bosom. No, it was not this case that would give 
him his chance — he should have to wait for another, he could 
clearly see. Another sensational robbery or murder, of direct 
interest to the British public? Ah, they were not so common, 
and he might wait a very long time before he could come across 
a case like this. It was hard. Young fellows of promise 
could get no chance. And the lack of enterprise about the 
criminal classes was enough to disgust you with your profes- 
sion. A lot of idle, loafing vagabonds, the criminals of the 
present day! They had no enterprise, no energy. They 
wasted nearly all their time! Mr. Toppin served the soup in 
an extremely dismal fashion, and broke his bread as if it were 
a rope he was endeavoring to pull asunder. 

The Vicomte de Bingham, ne Byers, appeared at the portals 
of the dining-room, and looked about him for the gentleman 
who had called from the Boulevard Haussmann on insurance 
business. As he stood there, with his head back, an after- 
dinner satisfaction upon his cheery countenance, and with his 


224 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

left hand gently stroking his chin, he looked a very honest, 
comfortable, dignified Grandpa, who liked a glass of good Bur- 
gundy, and who had just been discussing two or three. 

“ I love that old man,^^ commented the inspector, within 
himself. He signaled to Mr. Bingham, and Grandpa ap- 
proached. “Not the movement of an eyelash, B’ll take my 
oath,^^ continued the inspector, mentally — “ and yet to see 
the three of us together, he must guess the gamers all, up. 
What an artist! No, I canH, I mustn^’t hurt him!^^ 

Grandpa met the crisis like an artist, verily. Astonishment 
— none! Chagrin — none! Alarm — demoralization? Not the 
minutest atom. He saluted with a tact in differentiation that 
was really exquisite: cordial warmth, toward the inspector; 
toward Brother Neel, a meek urbanity; for Toppin, cere- 
monious recognition. They had all risen. 

“ Vicomte,^^ said the inspector, “ a word with you.-’^ 

He led the new-comer to a side-table. 

Detective Toppin could scarcely believe his ears. Vicomte! 
How was it possible that this old swell should be mixed up 
with the inquiry! Vicomte? He did not recognize him as a 
secret agent of the French police! 

Oh, Byde was going all wrong! Well, let him go wrong, 
then: he, Thomas Toppin, had had enough of trying to put 
him right! A pretty muddle Byde would land the case in. 
He'd end by getting* himself “ taken — he would! — that^s 
how he^d end. That Hy, at the prefecture, would have him 
“taken/^ ^cre noni! The mirth with which this prospect 
filled him, Toppin would have longed to share with Brother 
Neel. They awaited silently the inspector's return. Brother 
Neel exhibiting a stony indifference to all that might be done 
and said. 

“ Benjamin,^^ began Mr. Byde, as they sat out of ear-shot, 
“ get out of tliis while youVe time.^^ 

“ Dear me! what can you be alluding to, old friend ?^^ 

Mr. Bingham gazed about him as though he had been 
warned against an imminent confiagration — as though he 
thought the fiames might just be bursting through the walls. 

“ There’s the Paris Directory just behind you; reach it over 
to me, there’s a good fellow. ” Mr. Bingham obligingly com- 
plied with the request. “You have not been quite candid 
with me, Benny,” observed the inspector, as he turned the 
leaves; “ but of course we both know what things are. Look 
here,” he proceeded, indicatmg the section Courtiers en 
Bijouterie- Imitation — “ under the B’s of the dealers in imi- 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


225 


tation diamonds, etc., I find the name of Bingham, Rue des 
Petits Champs 

“ Yes, yes,^^ acquiesced Grandpa, ‘‘ that^s myself.^'’ 

“You didn^t tell me that you combined that business with 
your insurance agency. 

“ Bless me — I believe that, now you mention it, I did forget 
that portion of my business. Oh — a trifle, a mere nothing! 
Market not overgood. 

“ The stuff you deal in isnT like the market, then.^^ In- 
spector Byde took a small object out of his waistcoat pocket 
and hand^ it to Mr. Bingham. “ My compliments, Benny. 

. First-rate 

Grandpa received the object imperturbably, and examined it. 

“ Yes, those are my goods,^^ said he; “ pretty near the real 
thing, hey? Cost of production low, too. 

“ I borrowed it from your office when you went out in a 
hurry to insure that life. 

“ Ah, yes — yes! Strange thing if you hadnT put your hand 
on something or other. CanT leave you Scotland Yard gen- 
tlemen alone for half a minute; must go ‘ lifting * something! 
Dare say you thought it was the real commodity ?^^ 

“ I^’m glad for your sake, Benny, it was not, AVeVe got to 
find the originals, you know — the originals — and I^’m glad for 
your sake that this was only a fair specimen of the suhslitioted 
gentlemen. ” 

“ Good product, isn^t it?^^ returned Grandpa, closing one 
eye as he again examined the imitation brilliant restored to 
him. “ Sample of some new work. 

“ Well, now — where are the originals, Benny 

“ My dear Byde, what on earth can you be talking about?^’ 

“ Well, I wonT press you, Benjamin. I know what things 
are. But satisfy me on this point : suppose we searched you 
now — here — should we find a single genuine — 

“Not one,^'’ responded Mr. Bingham, with alacrity, “not 
one, even set in a ring. And you can either take my word for 
it or make your search. 

“ Very well. Now, if you take my advice you wonT rejoin 
your friends upstairs. 

“ I think I should like just to step upstairs, and wish them 
good-evening — not to be uncivil, donT you know — like busi- 
ness visit — take leave — 

“ What was your business with them, Benny, in case of 
very awkward questions, hereafter; what was your little busi- 
ness?^’ 

“ Insurance — lives — ’’ 

8 


226 THT: PASSENGETl FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

“ Bad lives; one, at any rate, if our information can be re- 
lied upon. I think you had better not rejoin them, Benny 

The inspector's tone and manner were decidedly significant. 
Mr. Bingham hesitated, shot a keen glance at his old friend, 
began a response, and then checked himself. The look upon 
his pleasant visage was no longer cheery. 

‘^Not?^^ said he. 

I tliink not,^^ answered the inspector. “ I have got to go 
and see them.'’' 

“ Oh, well; if you think — All right, then. I don't in- 
sist." 

‘‘ Come and talk to our friends, until I return," suggested 
the inspector, ending the colloquy. 

They went back to the dinner-table, and apparently wound 
up an important conference on the character of certain con- 
tinental banks. The insjDector blamed his companions for 
awaiting him. He then filled a very small glass with brandy, 
swallowed the contents, and said he did not expect to be very 
long detained upstairs. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

The inspector had gone as far as the door, when he stopped, 
partially retraced his steps, and beckoned Mr. Toppin toward 
him. That zealous and active oflicer obeyed the summons 
with promptitude. 

“ Give me a quarter of an hour," said the inspector to his 
subordinate. “ If I don't return by a quarter of an hour from 
now " — they both looked at the large clock over the mantel- 
piece — “ come for me to No. 19 — second-floor." 

Danger?" asked Toppin, in better spirits. 

“ Shouldn't think so; but in case — " 

“ What am I to do with this man, Xo. 21, the temperance 
swell?" 

‘‘ Either call in a policeman, show your credentials, and 
hand him over to the French authorities without any more fuss, 
or — yes, this will be the better course — tell my old friend 
there, the vicomte, that it's my express wish that he should 
remain with Neel until one of us comes back. The vicomte 
will understand it, and he'll never leave him. Yes, that will 
be the better course. We may as well keep the affair in our 
own hands. The French police can do what they like with the 
murder case; but we don't want to have them meddling with 
the diamond robbery, which is strictly owr- business, Top- 
pin. " 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


227 


“ Just so/’ assented Toppin, in still better sinrits; '‘our 
business eiitirely. I am quite of your opinion/' 

“ Then^ in fifteen, or, say, twenty minutes from now." 

The inspector resumed his journey through the vestibule, to 
the foot of the staircase. As he slowly ascended the two 
flights of stairs, he summed up the eventual aspects of the 
Park Lane inquiry. There was absolutely no evidence against 
any one. There were presumptions — oh, any number of pre- 
sumptions, likelihoods, and contingent “ moral certitudes" — 
but when it came to finding the numerical values, as you might 
say, of these expressions, how the deuce were you to work them 
out? The inspector wished he could have brought his son 
Edgar with liim on this investigation. How that boy would 
have set to work upon his simultaneous equations of the first 
degree, with more than two unknown quantities! 

Whether or not he succeeded presently, where was the case 
he could take into court? What connected the dead man, 
Eemington, with the diamond robbery at old Stanislas Wil- 
mot's residence in Park Lane? Young Mr. Sinclair, and the 
butler of the house, supposed to be the possible confederates of 
the deceased, might be held to connect him with it. Yes; and 
young Mr. Sinclair would prove an ah'di, very likely; and the 
butler, if apparently implicated, could get out of the position 
in a thousand ways, clearing the character of the deceased at 
the same time as he effected his own extrication. Suppose he, 
Byde, obtained possession of loose diamonds which would an- 
swer to the description of the property abstracted from the 
strong-room in Park Lane? Who was going to swear to them 
in court? Would Stanislas Wilmot, Esq., get into the wit- 
ness-box and swear to the identity of the stones produced? 
Xot exactly — to the satisfaction of the twelve good men and 
true. It reminded him of a trial he had once looked on at in 
the Midlands. He must relate that story to his subordinate 
when he rejoined him down-stairs. With regard to the Wil- 
mot diamond robbery, there was no mistake about it— he had 
no case. 

It did not follow that, because he had no case, he had no 
prospect of recovering the actual Wilmot property. Eor he 
certainly believed by this time that the property stolen from 
the Park Lane house were genuine diamonds, of the value 
represented. Any lingering doubt upon the subject might 
perhaps be dispelled by careful , search of Brother iSTeePs lug- 
gage. He felt certain that the temperance lecturer h^ 
“ sweated " the contents of the black velvet diamond-case, 
that a brilliant or two — or three — or four — might be dis- 


228 THE rASSEKGEB FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

covered in some corner of that gentleman^s portmanteau, or in 
the lining of some garment, newly sewed. It was just possible 
that he was on the right track of the missing valuables; but 
he did not see a tangible case for a jury, so far. Whence 
took cases into court he got convictions. It was his reputation 
for always clinching the evidence, all round, that had made 
his failure in that great temperance i^rosecution so terrible a 
blow. He could not risk his credit this time on the flimsiest 
of circumstantial claims. He*d get the property back and 
ask no questions. 

And Brother Neel, of the I. 0. T. A. ! W as he, Byde, to 
lose this precious opportunity of wiping out that blunder which 
these temperance people brought up on the least occasion? He 
had hoped to liit them very hard indeed through Brother Neel. 
Would he not be justifled in indicating Brother Neel to the 
French police? Let him go and tell them such a tale as he 
had told Inspector Byde that evening, in the presence of Top- 
pin! What would the Surete here think about it, and what 
would be their practical response? Ha! — a pretty narrative, 
would be their comment, to explain the possession of an object 
which had avowedly been taken from the murdered man! 
Well — did he, George Byde, of the V Division, believe that 
narrative? To be quite frank upon the matter — hang it, bias 
apart! — yes, he did. 

Brother Neel had stated that he could furnish no detail 
tending to identify the murderer; and it redounded to his 
credit, thought the inspector, that he had committed himself 
to nothing which might inculpate another individual, although 
he must have entertained suspicions, however slight, coinciding 
with those entertained by the inspector. Besides, if he, George 
Byde, should one of these days flnd.it feasible to cancel that 
^sign — with that +, he wished to do it unassisted, with his own 
weapons, in a straightforward way. ‘ He did not want his col- 
leagues, anywhere, to strike his retaliatory blow for him. It 
would be sweet to strike that blow, mused this vindictive in- 
spector,' of Division V — very sweet, afterward, to quote Corio- 
lanus to Aufidius, though not to die immediately thereupon. 

Number 19. The inspector used no ceremony. There was 
the handle of the door; he turned the handle, pushed the door 
open, stepped across the threshold, and closed the door again 
behind him. The two occupants of the room were lounging 
in easy-chairs before the hearth; and from the cigars they held 
screwed into the corners of their mouths ascended thin blue 
wreaths of an exceeding fragi’ance. 

Well, who was your friend, Byers?' ^ demanded Sir John, 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


229 


with a patronizing drawl. Neither he nor his companion 
turned or looked up as the door closed. 

“ Grandpa's particular, that he's engaged to, I'll lay a 
thousand," observed Mr. Finch — ‘‘oh, the forward young 
woman!" 

“ Now, my lads," began the inspector, briskly; and at the 
sound of his voice they both sprung from their seats — “ I dare 
say you both know me /" 

Sir John muttered an oath, pitched his cigar into the fire- 
place, and gathered himself together with an unmistakable air 
of menace. The violence of his movement had been such that 
the cigar scattered the white ashes along the side of the log fire. 

“ Do you know the gentleman, Alfred.^" inquired Mr. 
Finch, innocently. 

“ Not I!" growled his companion, with another oath. 

“ Blest if / do!" proceeded Mr. Finch. “ Made a mistake 
in the room, sir, ain't you?" 

“ Now what's this game, my lads?" went on the insq>ector. 
“ Come, out with it! You, Vine, stay where you are! Don't 
you advance another step. I've come prepared for you /" 

“ Be quiet, Alfred — stand back," urged Mr. Finch, mildly 
— “ I'm sure this gentleman isn't a robber. " 

“ To what do we owe the pleasure — " demanded Sir John, 
his face set, and his steady gray eyes shining very curiously. 

“ Ah, I see you know what I've come about," said the in- 
spector, sternly. “You, Bartholomew Finch, Walker, 
I've not had you through my hands yet; but be careful how 
you behave. As for you, Ernest Vine, alias Grainger, I re- 
member you well enough, and you remember me. It depends 
upon your conduct at this instant where you pass the night. 
Now, then, be straightforward and save me trouble. If you 
are straightforward, I dare say we can give you a fresh start. 
If you fence, you are in the custody of the French police to- 
night, as sure as you're alive. " 

“ Why, now I look at him it is — it's Mr. Byde! Beg par- 
don, Mr. Byde, sir; didn't recognize you." 

Mr. Fincli uttered these words with the most convincing air 
of pleased surprise. 

“ In the custody of the French police? On what charge, I 
should like to know?" 

“ The charge of murder." 

“ Murder!" echoed Sir John, with a defiant laugh, but his 
voice faltering. “ Why, you are joking with us!" 

“ Yes, that's it," said Mr. Finch, cheerfully— “ he's joking, 
Mr. Byde is — ha! ha! A d d queer joke, though, Ernest." 


230 


THE rASSEKGEK FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


“ And a d d dangerous joke, I give you the tip!'^ kn 

Sir John^s extremity, the genteel veneer which ladies nearly 
always took for good breeding disappeared. The ruffian sud- 
denly asserted himself. “ Murder — eh?^^ said he, with a 
ferocious sneer. And whereas the d d victim 

‘‘The victim lies at the morgue,^’ replied the inspector, 
rapidly. “ Once more, stay where you are, or ITl bring you 
down! You traveled in the night mail from London with him 
— and with me. You followed him from place to place until 
you got to Amiens. Just after leaving Creil you climbed along 
the foot-board of the carriage until you came to his compart- 
ment, and you shot him as he lay there dozing, and before he 
could defend himself. Then you took a packet from his 
breast-pocket. In that packet were loose diamonds, which 
can be identified. It^s for those diamonds I^je come to see 
you now, for I know they are in this room!^^ 

There was a pause. 

“This is pretty hot,^'’ observed Mr. Finch. “It's not 
true. Jack, is it?" 

“ True? Haven't I told you just what happened! The 
thing was done before I got there, and the i^ocket was empty. 
YouTl bring me down, will you, Mr. Inspector Byde? By 

, ITl charge you with this murder myself! ITl swear I 

saw you do it, and Bat here will back me up." 

“Me?" protested Mr. Finch — “ me? No, sir — no perjury 
for Bartholomew! Not for Bartholomew, Mr. Wilkins !" 

“ No more of this nonsense, " pursued the inspector. “ I'm 
sure of my witness. Vine. I've got the man who interrupted 
you." The speaker flashed the look at Sir John, which, dur- 
ing his interview with Brother Neel, the latter had twice or 
thrice encountered. “ That temperance fellow told us the 
truth, by the Lord Harry!" was Mr. Byde's mental pro- 
nouncement. 

“ That won't do," returned Vine, alias Grainger, dog- 
gedly. “ Lock me up if you're sure of your witness; and 
we'll see what he'll prove. We'll charge your witness with it; 
that's how we'll reward your witness. Where's this property, 
then, you talk about? Have I ever had it: is your witness go- 
ing to prove that it has ever been in my possession? Suppose 
we guessed at your witness; suppose we told you where to put 
your hands upon the packet you're looking for; suppose it 
was your witness who had put that packet in that place; what 
sort of a case would bo left to you, Mr. Inspector Byde, with 
your witness who knows all about it? Ah? — what sort of a 
case?" 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


231 


“ That’s it!” approved Mr. Finch, winking with a very as- 
tute expression, and wagging his head. You’re on the 
wrong scent, Mr. Byde; take my word for it, sir. Not but 
that I will not say — that — if — we liked to speak out — hey. 
Jack?” 

Yes — if we liked to speak out ” — echoed Sir John, slowly. 

“ We know what we have remarked, don’t Ave, Jack? We 
have formed certain suspicions — as to — certain parties — ” 

“ That traveled by the same train — a certain party — ” 

‘‘ As had a good deal to say to the deceased — on the way 

down — a d d sight too much to say to be cocum, if you ask 

me ; and, if my memory serves me ” — it was an air of en- 
rapturing guilelessness, the air with which Finch, alias Walker, 
consulted his memory — “ yes, I did! — I made that observation 
to you at the moment, Ernest?” 

‘ You did,” acquiesced Sir John, watching the inspector. 

“ Give me the man that likes his two of gin,” proceeded 
Mr. Finch, absently. “ These temperance Gaffers! Woiddn’t 
trust the king of them all with change for a sovereign! No, 
sir — not me! That I wouldn’t!” 

‘ ‘ Pretty nearly done ?’ ’ asked the inspector, sharply. ‘ ‘ Gome 
to the pomt, my lads; I’ve only got a few more minutes to 
give you. Out with that property. I don’t want to knoAv how 
you came by it; I’ll avoid putting any question, either now or 
hereafter, if you conduct yourselves like sensible lads; but that 
property is in this room, and that property I must have. Now 
I know your school: you are boys from Tudor Street. ShoAV 
yourselves worthy of your school — show yourselves lads of 
sense. Y’^ou’re licked to-day. Throw the sponge up!” 

“ Shall we stand this. Bat?” growled Vine, alias Grainger. 

‘‘ My goodness me,” murmured Mr. Finch — ‘‘ I can’t think 
Avhat Mr. Byde’s alludin’ to!” 

‘‘ For the last time ” — ^Avent on the inspector, very quietly — 
‘‘ put those d d diamonds on that table! In another min- 

ute you will be too late. My colleague, with the French police 
at his back, Avill be knocking at tliis door in another minute. 
Y^ou knOAV what that means. It means that you are both 
searched on the spot, the room ransacked, too, and that you 
are both locked up in a French prison for putting that man 
out, and robbing him of the diamonds Avhich Ave know he had 
in his possession. . It’s the guillotine for both of you — or, at 
least, they’ll send you both aAvay for life.” 

What haA^e I done, Mr. Byde, sir?” protested Mr. Finch. 

“ MJiat do I care?” returned the inspector, Avith a sort of 
grim tranquillity. ‘‘ If, on the other hand, you behave sensi- 


232 


THE PASSEKGEE FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


bly^ I give you my word Idl say no more about the matter. 
My business is to take that property back to England, and I 
intend to take it back. And that^s all. You\e been minding 
it for me, you understand. You were not the original thieves; 
and what has happened upon French territory concerns the 
French.'’^ 

“ Jack,""^ observed Mr. Finch to his companion, “ very like- 
ly Mr. Byde is alludin^ to that little parcel which we picked up 
in the street.^’ 

There was no answer. Vine, alias Grainger, and Inspector 
Byde stood looking at each other for an instant or two in 
silence. The one was manifestly weighing the chances of a 
sudden onslaught; the other manifestly held himself prepared. 

“ It wonT pay you this time,’^ said the inspector at length, 
simply. ‘‘ Another day, Vine.^^ 

“ You know. Jack, that little parcel which we picked up 
while we were out walking on the bullyvards.^^ 

“Byers, Bingham, or whatever he calls himself, has it,^’ 
replied Sh’ John, sullenly. 

“ He^s in detention down-stairs, in case we want to search 
him. But I know what I am about; and I begin with you. 
Come!” 

Vine, alias Grainger, brusquely plunged his hand into a 
ready pocket — the deep breast-pocket of a loose frock-coat. 
For a moment, in that attitude he stood immovable. . . . The 
suspense — the gesture? . . . On the countenances of the two 
spectators an identical thought called up oddly contrasted ex- 
pressions. It was Mr. Finch, however, who exhibited alarm. 

“ Jack!” he shouted, in a tone of warning. 

Whether or not more than a single object lay within the 
dark recesses of that loose breast-pocket, the object which Sir 
John wrenched with an effort from its dej)ths appeared to be 
not that which the two spectators had with differing sensations 
anticipated. His right hand grasped a canvas bag, tightly 
fastened, and he banged this “little parcel on the table in 
front of him, as he had previously hurled into the log fire his 
unoffending, fragrant cigar. The contents emitted a slight 
rattle, like pebbles. Before an observation could be proffered, 
there was a knock at the door. 

“ My colleague,” announced the inspector; “ you see I told 
you the truth. We need not let him into our j&airs, and he 
can wait outside. ” 

He opened the door a little way; but it was not Mr. Toppin 
who had knocked. 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. ^33 

“■Well!’^ demanded the inspector, gruffly, of the person 
outside. 

A few French words ensued, of surly apology. Yes, re- 
turned the inspector, in his Bordeaux accent, the sick gentle- 
nian of No. 19 certainly was at that juncture engaged with 
visitors; go away, and come back later! The service of the 
apartment? It could not be attended to just then, the apart- 
ment: ollez-vous-en faire votre service ailleurs. Oh, there 
you are, Toppin,^^ ^ded the inspector, as his colleague now 
approached along the corridor. ‘ Send this anarchist savage 
about his business, and guard the entrance. You neednT 
come in. I mustnT be disturbed for a little while. ” 

Closing the door again behind him, he observed the precau- 
tion of turning the key in the lock inside. 

‘‘ Thak’s in your interests, my lads,^^ he remarked, tapping 
the key. ‘‘ YouVe shown your sense in being straightfor- 
ward, and I shall keep my word. It will be your own fault if 
you make my colleague's acquaintance. " 

Sir John moved back to the hearth, and sunk into his 
easy-chair again. As he sat there, restlessly pulling at his mus- 
tache, and scowling at the pictures which his mind's eye imag- 
ined in the flames that sprung out fitfully from the half- 
charred logs. Inspector Byde advanced toward the round table 
and picked up the securely tied canvas bag. The inspector 
had to use his penknife, for the knots were perfectly Gordian. 

“ A lucky thiug we happened to be passing," ventured Mr. 
Finch; ‘‘ a lucky thing we happened to notice it. There it 
was, just lying on the pavement, the edge of the 'pavement; 
and you wouldn't have thought it was anything at all! I said 
to Jack: ‘ Jack,' I said, ‘ what's that?' I said, ‘ Looks like a 
tobacco-pouch,' I said; and Jack said — " 

The inspector ^poured forth the contents of the canvas bag. 
Oh, marvelous, indeed! A blazing prism lay before him. 
One of the charred logs in the open fire-place gave way under 
the weight of fresher fuel, and from the new logs, hissing and 
crackling, a bright red flame shot up, broad, steady, and 
ardent. The dazzling heap of pebbles which the inspector had 
poured forth seemed to seize and intensify that sudden red 
flame — to break it up into innumerable sparks, vivid in their 
play of hue, and surely little short of ignescent. 

‘‘ The genuine article, and no mistake," ran Mr. Byde's 
mental comment; “ what quality, and how they're cut! Phew! 
Not so big as to be identified easily, but, by the Lord Harry, 
quite big enough to go to Portland for! And as to the value 
of the whole lot — underestimated at forty per cent. ! The old 


234 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

story. They do think that they are so clever, these people in 
the trade! They think it^s clever, some of them, to under- 
state their loss in any case like this — they fancy they can get 
the property restored on easier terms from the thieves. Yes, 
when you can get the thieves into negotiations — nice and con- 
fidential negotiations — through some third personas third 
friend ^s third wife. •’ ’ 

‘‘ And thak’s how it was we went and picked it up,^^ con- 
cluded Mr. Finch. “ Lucky we saw it. Somebody else might 
have come that way the very next minute, picked it up, and 
said nothing whatever about the discovery. Jack and I 
thought we’d advertise it. Best thing to do, wasn’t it.^ We 
were talking about an advertisement in the newspapers just 
when you called in. Lucky you called, Mr. Byde — beuig ac- 
quainted with the rightful owners. Ah, it’s a load ofi! -my 
mind! And it’s quite upset poor old Jack, here!” 

The inspector counted the stones and replaced them in the 
canvas bag. Having secured the little package to his satisfac- 
tion, he deposited it in one of his own pockets protected with a 
row of buttons. 

“ Just come here a second. Finch,” he then remarked; “ I 
want you to hold this candle for me. ’ ’ 

Mr. Finch obeyed the request without any sign of wonder. 
Sir John, however, wheeled round in his chair for an explana- 
tion of the words. The speaker had held one of the candle- 
sticks above his head, and was now terminating a scrutiny of 
the entire apartment. He noted the three door-ways, the 
alcove, and the windows; and oft and benignantly he nodded. 
And why? Behind him lay the entrance from the corridor. 
In front of him were the windows; to his immediate left stood 
the alcove and the hearth; and to the right and left of the 
windows were apparently door- ways communicating with apart- 
ments upon each side, beyond. 

‘‘ AVell, it was no guess-work — that I can trutlifully say,” 
in’onounced the inspector, in a soft voice, and with a sigh of 
content; “ it was a scientific process of induction.” 

“ Ah,” ejaculated Mr. Finch, to show his politeness, in the 
brief pause that followed — “ Ah, now?” 

Scientific induction did it!” 

Mr. Finch wrinkled up liis chin by effacing its angle, and 
turned to his confederate with a puzzled air. 

‘‘And if we would only learn to bring scientific induction 
into all this work,” mused the inspector aloud, “ not many 
cases would go wrong!” 

. Ml-. Finch coughed deferentially. 


THE PASSEHGEK FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 235 

Excuse me, Mr. Byde, sir/^ lie insinuated, “but if lie^s 
one of the officers at the Yard — one of the divisional inspectors 
— perhaps — if you didn't mind — we should like to know his 
name and his division, if I'm not taking a liberty, sir — " 

“ Eh?" responded the inspector, roused; “ ‘ he?' — who?" 

“ The party you was alludin' to, sir — the artful one — you'll 
excuse me, Mr. Byde; no offense, I hope? — the party that 
you'd like to bring into this work — Cy — " 

“ Oh, you mean my old friend Scientific Induction, Es- 
quire," exclaimed the inspector, good-humoredly. “ No, Mas- 
ter Finch, I fear you'd put the Tudor Street school on to him 
and block him!" 

“ AVell, it's no use trying to put the double on with you, 
Mr. Byde, sir," rephed Mr. Finch, with a good humor equal 
to the inspector's; and there's no mistake: we should have 
try." 

The inspector led the way to the closed and curtained door 
communicating with the chamber at his right hand. No. 21. 
He intrusted the candlestick to Mr. Finch, and proceeded to 
remove the light article of furniture which stood against the 
curtain, a plain sheet of chintz. This done, he called his 
neighbor's attention to the fact that the curtain ended at the 
space of a foot from the floor. Had not Mr. Finch found the 
room draughty? Not at all, Mr. Finch assured him. The in- 
spector went down on his knees and asked for a match. 

“Don't think there's such a tiling about the place," de- 
clared Mr. Finch. 

“ Oh, I've some of my own," replied the inspector, “ but 
I want one of the right sort — one of yours — the matches that 
last a devil of a time and don't make any noise when you strike 
'em! It's odds you've got some on you!"- he urged, jocosely. 

“ Eight you are," said Mr. Finch, with equanimity, produc- 
ing half a dozen noiseless matches from his waistcoat pocket. 

“ There's your boulevard," resumed the inspector, passing 
the flame of the match along the flooring at the bottom of the 
door; there's the edge of your pavement. You forgot this line 
of dust, my lads. See how you disturbed it! Anybody can 
see it's quite freshly disturbed." 

“ Where?" protested Mr. Finch, stoutly. 

Sir John interposed, speaking from the other side of the 
room. 

“ It's no use denying it," said he, calmly; “ Inspector Byde 
has found the road out. All's well that ends well. This ought 
to convince you, insjaector, that we could have stood out if we 
had liked. I don't blame you for threatening us, to force our 


2S6 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

hands and wind the affair up sharp; but still, to threaten us 
with the charge of murder and the guillotine was coming it 
strong, inspector; wasn^’t it?^^ 

“A bit strong, perhaps, concurred the inspector, rising 
from his knees and returning to the middle of the room. 

Mr. Finch restored the candlestick to its place. 

“Not to keep anything back,^’ pursued Sir John; “we 
recognized you in the train before it started from London. 
Even if we had come on business, was it likely that we should 
have tried at anything, with a passenger from Scotland Yard 
about us, especially when that passenger was you V* 

“ Not very likely exclaimed Mr. Finch. 

“ But we hadn’t come on business. We^d come for a little 
holiday and change of air, and it^s very unfortunate that cir- 
cumstances should have made appearances awkward for us. 
But we know that you’re not one of the gentlemen who are 
misled by appearances; and the fact is, we mean to cut the 
Tudor Street school and turn over a new leaf — donT we, 
Bat?"^ 

“ We do,^^ answered Mr. Finch. 

“ And, therefore, now you have found out how that prop- 
erty came into our possession, and we Ve admitted that you are 
right — and you have pledged your word, on consideration of 
our behaving in a straightforward manner — that ends the 
whole matter, doesnT it? I mean that of course it^s quite 
clear we can’t in any way be mixed up with the case you 
threatened us with — the murder?” 

“ Oh, that’s not my business,” returned Inspector Byde; 
“ my mission ended with this ” — he tapped the buttoned 
pocket containing the canvas bag. “We shall have the iden- 
tity of the victim established by a colleague of mine, and the 
body wiU then be removed from the morgue, for bmial here, 
or for transit to London. No doubt the friends of the de- 
ceased will pay the necessary' charges, and have the coffin sent 
on from here. As for the murderer, the French police may 
either shelve the case as classee, or get hold of somebody or 
other who had nothing to do with it, and cut his head off; but 
against the real perpetrator of the crime there does not seem 
to me to be — and of course I know something, although it’s a 
French affair, and doesn’t concern me personally — the smallest 
piece of evidence that could be put before a jury. ” 

“But the man next door. No. 21 — the man we got this 
from?” demanded Sir John, rather eagerly. 

“ iUi! the temperance party, Mr. Byde, that had so much 
to say, and that had the property by him, afterward?” 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


237 


Mr. Finch appeared to be asking himself why the inspector 
could not immediately add two and two together, and, without 
any fuss at all about it, make the sum total at once four. 

“ Brother Neel, of the International Organization of Total 
Abstainers?^^ Inspector Byde uttered these words slowly, but 
with no undue emphasis. ‘‘ Whoever murdered that English 
traveler by the night mail from London, I hnow that the man 
Neel could not have been the murderer. He turned the key 
in the lock. “ A last word, my lads,^^ he added, facetiously; 
“ if youM like to go back to-morrow with me, say so, you 
know! Anything to oblige two boys whoVe shown so much 
good sense. What do you say. Finch — Bartholomew Finch, 
alias AYalker? There^s nothing against you just now, I be- 
lieve; will you go back with me to-morrow?^^ 

“ You’ll excuse me, Mr. Byde, but — no, thank you! Go 
back with you, sir? No; not exactly — youTl excuse me. 
Why, what would people say if they saw Bat Finch a traveling 
with Inspector Byde? It would be a disgrace for Hfe; I’d lose 
my character. I never could get over it! Not me, Mr. Wil- 
kins — no, sir!” 

And you. Vine?” asked the inspector, pleasantly; will 
you keep me company to-morrow? The 8:20 a. m. train from 
the Gare du Nord, Calais and Dover, due Holborn Viaduct at 
5:33 p. M., or in Victoria — which would be handier for you — 
at 5:30. It’s the morning mail from Paris.” 

‘‘ I would accompany you with very much pleasure, indeed,” 
replied Sir John, with liis most elaborate drawl; “ but I am 
positively over for a holiday, and may run down to the south. 
Thanks all the same for your kind offer.” 

He had overcome his rage and disappointment, there could 
hardly be a doubt about it; he had recovered his assurance and 
his superfine genteel veneer. This was no longer the foid- 
mouthed desperado of vile origin, whose aliases had been re- 
corded in the Golden Square case of two years ago; this was 
the man whose criminal associates, and whose parish female 
patrons, in their admiration, nicknamed him The Honorable 
(with sometimes a strong aspirate) or Sir John. 

Here he stood, liar and swindler — faithless, extortionate, 
and spendthrift — a good-looking fellow, well built, well 
dressed, and, when the pinch came, quite the last man to be 
called a coward : here he swaggered — the specious knave whom 
the most wise among the fair had always helped and liked; 
who never told them they were less than perfect, and who never 
sought them but for purposes of aggrandizement. When he 
passed a season at some fashionable resort, his surreptitious 


238 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


trinmpbs among the more exclusive sets became perfectly 
amazing from the moment the cold shoulder had been turned 
upon him by cousins, brothers, and lovers. 

His most remarkable victory, though an unremunerative 
one, he grumbled, had been gained at Scarborough just before 
the Golden Square case. He had irretrievably compromised a 
^professional coquette (a failure on the stage, though honored 
by the notice, and, as it was understood, by the personal favors 
of — well, go to, no matter for the dish — the least said soonest 
mended), who had upon that untoward incident vanished from 
the public scene, with — among other good deeds — a separation, 
two divorces, an attempt at suicide, and four great bankrupt- 
cies to her credit. 

Sir John^s gentility and splendid impudence had, on much 
worthier occasions, trust aside plain merit or refinement. His 
social “form electrified the Tudor Street school when they 
recognized their swell mobsman in the Eow, at Epsom, at 
Ascot, or at Goodwood. It was a joka among themselves that 
now and then they journeyed by excursion trains to fashion 
able “ fixtures out of town, for the object, and for that 
alone, of feasting their eyes upon the grandeur of Sir John. 
In immediate contact with them, he maintained liis “ form 
uneasily; and he certainly ought not to have indulged in it 
with any representative of Scotland Yard. Yet, with a swag- 
ger, he now stood drawling his responses to Inspector George 
Byde, of the V Division; surveying that experienced ofiicer, by 
the Lord Harry, through an eyeglass! 

“ My lads,^^ concluded the inspector, on whom such mani- 
festations were always lost — “ we start clear fromtliis evening: 
keep out of my way. In another instant, he was gone. 

Mr. Toppin informed his colleague, as together they retraced 
their steps, that he had adopted the precaution of just speak- 
ing to a French plain-clothes man, in a friendly way, to watch 
the temjperance gentleman down-stairs, while he himself should 
happen to be absent. He had noticed the plain-clothes man 
hanging about at the end of the street, and fancied he would 
do well to enlist his temporary services; seeing that the 
vicomte, Mr. Byde^s elderly friend — and here Mr. Toppin 
glanced at the inspector dubiously — had altogether failed to 
comprehend him when he, Mr. Toppin, tipped him the office, 
gave him the hint, and tendered him the cue. In fact, that 
old buck would not stay in their society at all. 

“ What, he^s left you?^^ demanded the inspector, startled, 
notwithstanding his conviction that he had fully grasped the 
entire case, and that no issue remained over unaccounted for. 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


239 


Yes, he had left them, but he had promised to come back for 
a chat with Mr. Byde by the time the latter had dined. Be- 
fore quitting the hotel he had appeared to be gossiping with 
the lady in the bureau. He, Mr. Toppin, should say that the 
old chap had created an impression in that quarter. 

“ You look pale, inspector,'’^ added Mr. Toppin, inquisi- 
tively. 

The inspector said he ielt he wanted an underdone beefsteak 
and a pint of good stout in a cool tankard. 

“ You canT get that here,^^ observed Mr. Toppin. 

‘‘ Ho; but this time to-morrow ITl be drinking your health, 
friend Toppin, in the finest stout in the borough of Westmin- 
ster. And ITl be dining off a British beefsteak at the Silver 
Gridiron, where there’s a draught from every door and win- 
dow, and sawdust on the ground. ” 

“ To-morrow, inspector! Then you go back — ?” 

“ By the morning mail, 8:20 from-the Northern Terminus.” 

‘‘ How’s the case, then?” asked Toppin, anxiously. 

All over but shouting, my boy! The genuine property 
goes back with me to-morrow, and witliin three days you’ll 
get a letter of commendation from the Yard.” 

‘‘ Shall I, inspector? You’ll report — ?” 

‘‘I’ll do the right thing by you, Toppin; you’ll have no 
cause to complain of my report. I don’t forget how you’ve 
helped me through. ” 

Mr. Byde, sir — ” began his subordinate, with emotion. 

“ That’s all right,” continued the inspector; “ I see what it 
is; you only want a little encouragement.” 

‘‘That’s all, Mr. Byde; that’s all, I assure you,” declared 
To23pin, eagerly. “ A little encouragement — that’s just it!” 

At the foot of the staircase the inspector checked his com- 
panion. 

“ Now here’s a minor part of the inquiry you can deal with 
by yourself,” said he. ‘‘ The Wilmot diamonds are now in 
my pocket — all of them, we’ll suppose, except, perhaps, two 
or three or fom’. I rather imagine that those two or three or 
four may be met with in room No. 21, hidden away some- 
where, under lock and key. Take the man Neel upstairs with 
you and find them.” 

Brother Neel barely deigned to move as they rejoined him. 
On being apprised of Mr. Toppin ’s . errand, however, his per- 
turbation became evident to at any rate one pair of penetrat- 
ing eyes. Outraged virtue protested in his tone; the honor 
and dignity of the I. 0. T. A. confronted a traducer in his 
phrasing and his magnificent pose. How he did sublimely cast 


240 


THE PASSEHGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


those long, imparted oily locks back from liis noble brow — the 
platform gesture of a million oratorical mountebanks! Oh, 
the generous fire of that regard, and oh, the leonine head! 

The inspector looked on like a very wicked old Grimalkin, 
whose mere aspect at this moment should have cured any 
unctuous, tub-thumping grand worthy master or brother of 
the I. 0. T. A. of any incipient tendency toward moral turpi- 
tude. 

At length alone, the inspector set about his late meal in 
good earnest. His subordinate ofl&cer and Brother Neel re- 
mained longer absent than he had anticipated. 

When Mr. Toppin reappeared he was unaccompanied by 
the lecturer. 

‘‘ Nothing !^^ he exclaimed, excitedly; “ found the lock of 
his portmanteau forced when he got upstairs. ‘ The anarchist, 
for a thousand,^ said 1. ‘ HavenT the least cognizance of your 
meaning, my dear friend,^ said he. And here it is! he wonT 

admit that the lock has been forced — d d glad he is that it 

has been forced! Of course I searched, and of course there 
was nothing. But B’m after the anarchist now! He^s done 
his work and gone home, it seems; and 1^11 be after him, if I 
take a street full of the police to get the stones for you by to- 
morrow morning — or perha;ps to-night. 

‘ ‘ No, not to-night, Toppm — I want a good night^s rest, and 
I shall turn in eany. Before 8 :20 to-morrow morning, at the 
Gare du Nord. And, by the way, I want you particularly to 
see me ofi. You had better come to my hotel first. I expect 
to be followed on the way back to London, and I want you to 
watch the station here. 

The inspector escorted Mr. Toppin to the vestibule. Grand- 
pa had returned to the hotel bureau, and was gossiping more 
than affably with its lady president. Grandpa^'s gallantry of 
mamier grew with each compliment he rounded, and with each 
compliment more melting grew the widowed maid. 

“ Wonderful old boy,^^ murmured the inspector. They^d 
make a nice old couple, too!^^ 

But the inspector here, at any rate, misread the manifesta- 
tions. Grandpa was refiecting — 

“ Clever woman — knows the world — must look in soon and 
offer a commission — directly Byde^s out of the way. Could 
put a lot of business into our hands, this wide-awake old rose- 
bud here!^^ 

The lady was reflecting — 

“ Mais il est charmant, ma chere^—cliarmant — inais charm- 
ant, ce vieux monsieur ! D’un galant ! D’une distinction 1 


THE TASSEHGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 241 

There are then Englishmen like this? What courtly grace, 
and what adorable simplicity! His foreign accent not too 
harsh — piquant^ when you get accustomed to it — oiii, ma cliere 
— et puiSf un vicomte! The usage of the best world! And 
so I should be vicomtesse 9 The Baron X. will be so glad to 
hear of this! And when he knows I^m rich and married he^s 
certain to come to me again !^^ 

“ You think, then, you'll be followed back to-morrow?" in- 
quired Toppin, seriously. “ They'll have another try?" 

“ I hope so," answered the inspector. I've laid the trap!" 


CHAPTER XX. 

Inspector Byde had noted down so many points for his 
brief conference with Toppin on the following day, prior to his 
OWH departure from Paris, that he had intended to rise some- 
what early, in the hope that (Mr. Toppin being a young man 
who was never pmictual to his appointments, but always 
vexatiously in advance) half an hour or so might be available 
for the discussion of some hitherto unattempted theorems. 
He did rise early — earlier than he had intended. An unex- 
pected caller sent his card up at an untimely hour. The in- 
spector was still wrapped in the refreshing sleep which no 
doubt blesses virtue's votary " quite as often as it recom- 
penses vice, after the ‘‘pleasures of a well-spent day," when 
a discreet knocking at his chamber door roused him at 6:12. 
It was one of the hotel servants, who struggled out of his bed 
every morning to meet the arrivals by the English mail. 

The gentleman who sent this card up to monsieur, explained 
the servant, apologetically, would not wait a single instant. 
He was a gentleman in a hurry to see monsieur; a foreigner; 
had luggage with him; not much luggage, but — the candle? 
to bring in the candle? certainly, monsieur — the da-wn not 
breaking at this season of the year until close upon — was it 
that he was alone, the traveler? Apparently the traveler was 
alone, but peremptory — in a hurry to send his name up to 
monsieur. 

“ Mr. A. W. Sinclair," read the inspector, by the light of 
the candle. 

Yes, there were the characters — Mr. A. W. Sinclair. In- 
formation against him must have broken down, then? Ho 
case whatever, that was evident! In his heart of hearts the 
inspector could not repress a certain feeling of surprise that so 
much promptitude in releasing this innocent person should 
have been employed by, as he phrased it with habitual caution. 


242 * THE PASSENGER PROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

the powers that be. It might have been found that not the 
slightest justification could be adduced for the information 
laid by old Stanislas Wilmot; the wrongful detention had been 
shown to be a glaring instance of wrong, etc., etc.; and not- 
withstanding all that- — well, did he not understand the way 
they went along, too many of them? — and did he not know 
how easily the magistrates of police courts could be led into 
conceding unfair postponements and remands, prejudicially 
though these might affect the prisoner, and warranted only by 
impressionist conjecture, mere ‘‘ appearances?^'’ He should 
say, whatever might be the resources Mr. Sinclair had con- 
trolled, that the young gentleman was to be congratulated on 
getting out of this Park Lane affair so soon. Strange, all the 
same, that he himself should have received no word by tele- 
gram of the release. Inspector Byde looked at his watch, gave 
the servant a direction, locked the door again, satisfied himself 
once more as to the safety of the packet in his temporary 
charge, and plunged his head into a basin of cold water. 

The visitor, who was ushered upstairs after the short interval 
ordered by Mr. Byde, addressed the latter in a cheery voice, at 
once recalling to his mind the night of the arrest on Dover 
platform. A suspicion as to the genuineness of this card 
bearing the name of Mr. Sinclair had, to tell the truth, oc- 
curred to the inspector, and before admitting his caller he 
had gone back to the heavily curtained bedstead to possess 
himself of two small objects reposing well out of view, but 
well within the sleeper’s reach, underneath the pillow. 

He had never seen this Mr. Sinclair. The frank accents, 
however, that now fell upon his ears were undoubtedly those 
which had so firmly and distinctly replied to the condolences 
offered by the dead man Eemington — the false condolences of 
the very man who, at the moment of his uttering them, had 
the stolen Wilmot diamonds in his possession. 

‘‘ You will know me by name, I dare say, Mr. Byde,” be- 
gan the visitor, with no trace of either chagrin or resentment — 
“ at least, when I tell you that I am just in from Dover, and 
that the supposed case against me altogether collapsed, you 
will know where to place me in connection with your present 
business here. They told me at Dover that I might do well 
to give you a call immediately on arriving in Paris, and that 
coincided with my own desire. They fancied, for some reason 
or other, that you ‘might be leaving for Amsterdam or else- 
where the very first thing this morning- — if you had not, in 
fact, already gone away. If I would be good enough to do so, 
they said, I was to rejDort myself to Mr. Byde, Terminus Hotel 


THE PASSEHGEK FROM SCOTLAKD YARD. 343 

— I was to report myself and my release at once. And as I 
liad heard by telegram of your very great kindness to friends 
of mine liere^ I was particularly anxious to intercept you.^^ 

He added a few simple words of thanks^ naming only Mrs. 
Bertram in reference to liis friends; and then expressed a per- 
fectly impartial hope for the inspector's early and complete 
success in the investigation. 

It was too bad to intrude upon him at such an hour; but, 
apart from the suggestion submitted to him with great courtesy 
at DQver, Mr. Sinclair had wished to know without delay what 
news the inspector might be able to give him of the friends he 
had spoken of — the friends residing in the Avenue Marceau. 
Of course he could not present himself there yet awhile. He 
had wired to them definitely last evening, and no doubt they 
were in expectation of his arrival. Had the inspector heard at 
all from the Avenue Marceau late last night? 

Packing his valise with the celerity of a practiced cam- 
paigner, the inspector answered this and other tentative 
queries in a manner which indicated to his guest that he was 
substantially cognizant of the tie that bound Mr- Austin 
Sinclair to Miss Knollys. Their mutual avoidance of the 
young lady’s name only brought into greater prominence her 
passive share in the determination of Mr. Sinclair’s recent 
fortunes. 

It was Mr. Sinclair himself who eventually pronounced her 
name. He did so with an effort, as though shrinking from an 
act equivalent to desecration, but, having once broken silence 
with regard to her, he spoke of no one but Miss Adela Knollys 
to the inspector. 

Sincerely, how had she borne the news of his disgrace? The 
inspector had visited at the Avenue Marceau, and had seen 
both ladies since; how had Miss Knollys appeared to view the 
frightful humiliation he had undergone — the shame of a sus- 
pected criminality, the blemish of imprisonment? 

I am afraid — I am afraid,” continued this young fellow, 
with a very honest blush, and his voice beginning to tremble; 
‘‘ I was confident and steady enough until it was all over, but 
then — well, by Jove! inspector, I couldn’t help fearing for the 
moral consequences — ^you know — as a man of the world — ” 

The inspector shut down the top of his vahse and stood up- 
right again. 

‘‘ I tell you what it is, Mr. Sinclair,” said he, ‘‘ and having 
been honored by the confidence of that young lady, I may per- 
haps have had fairly good opportunities for judging — you arc 
an extremely fortunate young gentleman, sir!” 


244 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


The visitor sprung to his feet and grasped Inspector Byde 
by the hand. 

The inspector had been seeking for symptoms of the “ per- 
emptoriness reported to him, but h^ sought for them in 
vain. On a closer examination he fancied he could detect a 
considerable store of the decision of character to which he had 
heard Mrs. Bertram make allusion. 

This was a fellow, thought the inspector, who would grapple 
with difficulties, and no mistake; although this was also a 
fellow in whom a great deal of sentiment, donT you know, 
existed side by side with heaps of silent energy — not the com- 
monest of co-ordinates. It was to be remarked that the in- 
spector phrased it ‘‘sentiment,^'’ not “sentimentality,^^ and 
that — a man of the world, as Mr. Sinclair had observed — he 
did not in the least appear to look upon sentiment as either 
effeminate, or ridiculous, or in any conceivable fashion “ bad 
form.'’’ He judged according to his humble lights, did he 
not? And what is more, as a man of the world, he might 
have been found excusing even sentimentality. In his pro- 
fessional explorations of human nature he had so often 
traversed arid, flat, unhorizoned, monotonous wastes. 

A few words enlightened the inspector as to the circum- 
stances of Mr. Sinclair’s release. That gentleman had not 
merely proved his own aliM, he told Mr. Byde; he had inci- 
dentally furnished clews to the actual perpetators of the Park 
Lane diamond robbery. 

On and about the date of the robbery he was attending the 
last moments of an aged relative, by whom he had been hastily 
summoned from London. His relative lived at Chelmsford, 
and so far as the alibi was concerned, it was complete. With 
the knowledge which he, Mr. Sinclair, had of Stanislas Wil- 
mot’s personal disposition, as well as of his business enter- 
prises, he had had no difficulty in at once comprehendhig the 
real bearings of his own case. 

That being so, while quietly submitting to the arrest, he 
had lost no time in assailing Mr. Wilmot through a certain 
channel of private influences — irresistible influences, by Jove! 
Wilmot had rushed down post-haste to Scotland Yard to re- 
tract his information, inasmuch as it affected his former sec- 
retary. And there they had talked to him rather sternly. 

The thing might be made exceedingly unpleasant for old 
Stanislas Wilmot if he, Mr. Sinclair, chose to go on with it. 
But any measures of retaliation would infallibly bring before 
the public gaze at least one other name than theirs, and to 
avoid such an eventuality as that he would be willing to re- 


THE PASSEKGEK FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


245 


sign himself to much more than had actually been visited upon 
him. Wilmot had sent a special messenger to Dover with an 
apology that might have satisfied the most exacting of indi- 
viduals. 

Mr. Sinclair laughed cheerily as he said this. What did it 
matter to him, he added, tranquilly, if he had not fallen in 
the esteem of the sole person whose esteem, he cared about. 
The testamentary appointment of Stanislas Wilmot as the 
guardian of Miss Knollys vested powers in that gentleman 
which could he rendered little short of despotic during the 
legal infancy of his ward. 

He, Mr. Sinclair, had not wished to involve Miss Adela 
Knollys in large financial losses by any precipitate action of 
his own; at the same time he had very keenly felt the possible 
reproach that he was ready enough to wait until she could 
come into the possession of her independent means. It might 
have been feasible to upset the will on the ground of undue 
influence. 

However, njatters had turned out satisfactorily. AVilmot 
had ventured too far. Having by degrees shut his ward off 
from all society except that of a few queer city associates and 
their showy wives — whom the young lady, obeying her iustinct, 
had ultimately refused to meet — he had ended by making her 
virtually his prisoner. She had been obliged to quit the Park 
Lane house almost by stealth. 

“She preceded me here,^’ concluded Mr. Sinclair — “and 
sent me word she had done so, and of course I came on — when 
that little interruption took place at Dover. I talk freely to 
you, inspector, because I can see you are a good fellow, and 
because, in the matter of confidences, you gentlemen exercise 
sometimes the sort of rights exercised by the medical man. 
Besides, you have been very kind to her — I know that from a 
message. Well, by Jove, look here — I am not worthy of that 
splendid girl!’^ * 

“Yes, you are,"’^ thought the inspector, watching him, al- 
though, as the reader does not need to be reminded, he had 
himself been subjugated by the charm; in which state of mind,^ 
whether the homage be “ paternal, or in the strictest sense 
the converse of Platonic, the vassal frequently exhibits the 
fiercest scorn for any fellow-slave who would approach too 
near. 

“ I had not seen my relative for some years, continued Mr. 
Sinclair. “'We quarreled a long time ago. He was a dicta- 
torial old boy, and wanted me to go into the Church. I re- 
fused, and he took up one of my cousins, an awfully loose fish 


24G 


THE PASSEHGER FROM SCOTLAHT) YARD. 


at college, but now a curate. AVell, wliat do you think this 
poor old boy did? Had my movements followed, wherever I 
went, and always kept an eye upon me as I was struggling 
along. I almost feel angry with him, now that I know it, for 
never affording me an opportunity of showing him that I was 
not ungrateful. Poor old boy, he^s dead now. He received 
me quite roughly when I appeared at his bedside, the other 
day; and then — and then — by Jove, in his last few minutes he 
whispered that he had provided for me. And so he has — 
handsomely! An old brick, he was — a fine old Englishman! 
If it could have given him back his health at all, I^d have gone 
into the Church, even now V’ 

The inspector folded his traveling-wrap over his valise, and 
sat down for a moment after his labors. “ You are relieved of 
one great anxiety, at any rate,^^ said he. 

“Yes— thanks to him. 

“ And so all is going to end up happily? Why, that^s as it 
should be ! 

“As it should be — yes; and as too often it isn'T. 1 donT 
see, either, what Vve done, myself, to deserve this good fort- 
une; but there are so many rogues in the world who are in- 
finitely more prosperous upon nothing but misdeeds, that I 
may as well accept it without any scruple. Y^oufil think it 
odd, perhaps, but I half feel I owe it to the old boy to go into 
the Church. 

“ Go into the Wesleyan Church,’^ urged the inspector, who, 
to jDlease Mrs. Byde, rented sittings in the Wesleyan temple of 
their own locality, but never had been able to get along with 
tho successive ministers. 

“ Well,-’^ objected Mr. Sinclair, “ my relative was very 
Church of England. ” 

“ Ah — just so!^^ acquiesced the inspector. 

Directing the conversation upon his personal part in the 
Wilniot inquiry. Inspector Byde recapitulated briefly such of 
the main facts as h^ deemed it advisable to communicate. 
The murder was, of course, already known to Mr. Sinclair. 
The latter would not need to appear in that affair; and no 
doubt the excitement it had causej here Avould rapidly sub- 
side. Remington would be formally identified through a col- 
league of Mr. Byde^’s. As to the assassin, the French police 
possessed absolutely no clew, and they would most likely add 
the case soon to their catalogue of affaires classees, that is to 
say, unexplained. He, Mr. Byde, was on the track of the 
missing valuables. It was lucky Mr. Sinclair had looked in; 
he was leaving by the morning mail at 8 :20. 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 247 

Mr. Sinclair replied, after a pause, that there could be no 
reason why he should disguise the fact that Eemington was one 
of the two men whom his information, furnished at Dover to 
a Sergeant Bell, from Scotland Yard, directly implicated. 
The details must be in course of verification at the present 
moment, and by the time Inspector Byde returned to Scotland 
Yard, the story would have been completed for him. Not to 
j)rejudice the other man unduly, he would prefer just now to 
withhold the name which had been coupled with that of the 
deceased. The inspector would go fresh to his facts on reach- 
ing London. Mr. Sinclair had left Dover at ten o'' clock on 
the previous evening. The train was the regular night mail 
to the Continent — the train by which he had originally jour- 
neyed; it was just as if he had stepped out for a stay at Dover, 
with the object of profiting by the sea-air, and as if, when he 
had had enough of it, he had merely stepped in again, to come 
along. Mr. Sinclair laughed cheerily once more. Life had 
opened out brightly for him. 

The traveled waiter who knew Ms Battersea arrived at tMs 
instant with correspondence for Mistaire Bydee wdiich had 
been delivered late last night, and have been overlook by the 
confrere then on duty. One of the missives he brought was 
a note which had not passed tMough the post; the olLer was 
a telegram. 

Have you opened these asked the recipient. 

Opened them? Mais, monsieur — 

‘‘ Have you opened these 

But, certainly we did not permit ourselves to violate the 
correspondence of our chents; and we had our honor — and we 
had our probity — and — ^ ^ 

‘‘Come! come! Have the contents of these gone down to 
the prefecture?''^ But assuredly not! Monsieur Hy being in 
relations with the colleague of Monsieur Bydee! At the pre- 
fecture he had been told so. Aha! monsieur was no architect, 
then, after all. He (Mr. Byde and the waiter) turned out to 
be colleagues — only it would be just as well not to mention 
the prefecture at the hotel, Jiem 9 As you said in English, 
“ Ma^am is the word!^'’ Monsieur would be coming doTO to 
breakfast? Plenty of time. Mr. Byde^s colleague vanished, 
smiling mysteriously, like a brother mason. 

“ They have most likely been opened,'''’ pronoimced the in- 
spector. The telegram proved to be from Sergeant Bell, com- 
municating the fact of Austin Wortley Sinclair''s release, and 
preparing him for that young gentleman’s early visit. The 
'note proved to be two notes: Mrs. Bertram wrote in the third 


248 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

person to inform him “ in great haste that shortly after 
reaching home she received a second message from Mr. Sin- 
clair, announcing his departure for ^ris, inasmuch as all had 
been disposed of. The coachman would convey this Imrried 
scraivl to Mr. Byde^s address at once. Mrs. Bertram would 
feel so pleased if Inspector Byde would dine with them on 
Christmas-day — quite en famille. 

“ Ohristmas-day?'’^ exclaimed the inspector Why, of 
course, to-morrow^’s Christmas-eve! Capital! I can spend 
my Christmas at home in Camberwell — that is,"'^ he added, 
half to himself — “ unless I meet with accidents. 

“ And the other note?^^ hazarded Mr. Sinclair, without 
heeding the ominous qualification. 

The inspector opened the inclosure, a small sheet of rough 
, folded fantastically. 

Knollys,'’'’ said he, after glancing through the 
serried lines. Thanks me over and over again for all I have 
done, and will never, never, never forget it. But IVe done 
nothing! Well, I congratulate you, Mr. Sinclair. You have 
won almost an ideal nature — excuse me, sir.^^ 

“ Look here, inspector, exclaimed the young man — my 
conscience smote me, just now, when I was keeping back [a 
portion of the story from you. The last time I saw her was 
the day before her departure for Paris. I didnT know she 
was coming on here so soon. We met by appointment at a 
registrar’s office — and — the fact is, inspector, I am married to 
Miss Knollys!” 

‘‘ Married to her!” 

‘‘ Yes. And I haven’t seen her since. Her maid accom- 
panied her; and we parted when the formalities were gone 
through. And that’s what made me frightfully apprehensive. 
She bears my name now. Any dishonor to myself means dis- 
honor to her. It’s the same maid who has come on here with 
her, and she had exhibited the greatest affection for Miss 
Knollys — indeed, devotion. ” 

“ A devoted confidential maid!” commented the inspector, 
incredulously. “ A confidential maid devoted to her mistress! 
Why, when will women know one another? A confidential 
maid; well, now, I’ve been looking for the link, and perhaps 
I’ve found it. Do you know any tiling about this devoted con- 
fidential maid?” 

‘‘ No; can’t say I do,”^ answered Mr. Sinclair, startled. 
“ She’s a girl of rather striking personal appearance, and her 
name is Murdoch — Lydia Murdoch. ” 

That grim smile of the inspector’s broke over his face. 


gray note-paper 
‘‘From Miss 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


340 


“Hah! just so, just so!^^ he murmured; “I should have 
got at it scientifically. Mayfair case — divorce proceedings — 
Montmorency Vane — Vine, alias Grainger — good! I should 
have been glad of an interview with the handsome Miss Mur- 
doch, but can^t spare the time. Toppin must see to it. If I 
were you, Mr. Sinclair, I should send that confidential maid 
about her business. Her antecedents are deplorable. 

“ You don^t mean that?^"' 

“Yes. There^s nothing she can be directly charged with 
that I can see. She^s too clever for that. But let her carry 
her devotion somewhere else; let her get into somebody else^^s 
confidence. She has had a pensioner with very expensive 
tastes, and I dare say she^d replace him even if we managed to 
relieve her of the pensioner. Where there^s one there^s two. 
And honest people get victimized. Lady-like girl, too. Miss 
Murdoch! Do me the favor of breakfasting with me, Mr. 
Sinclair. My colleague^ will be here pesently; and you will be 
able to testify to Mrs. Bertram how hurriedly I have been 
obhged to leave. I shall ask you to make my excuses. 

An earlier visitor than Toppin, however, arrived to say a 
few farewell words to Mr. Byde. 

Grandpa called while they were at breakfast. He seemed 
quite hurt that the inspector should refrain from introducing 
him to the strange young gentleman seated at his left hand. 

“ Your friend might like to know a vicomte,^^ he hinted. 

“ Don't insist, Benny," urged the inspector, soothingly — 
“ I'd really rather not. And, besides, he knows better than 
that!’^ 

M. de Bingham then drew a large pill-box out of his waist- 
coat pocket, and screwed it up tightly in paper. 

“ A little memento from Finch and myself," said he; “ but 
don't look at it until you get on your journey." 

“ If they are anti-bilious, Benjamin, I assure you — " 

“ Well, never mind; that's our present, and I give you my 
word that you can accept it. That's right — put it in your 
pocket. You know very well I wouldn't ask you to commit 
yourself to anything incompatible with your position. How 
we do understand each other, you and I!" 

“ Where is Master Finch?" 

“Not up yet. Too early for him. But he sends you his 
compliments, and wants to know whether he can go back to 
Soho for his Christmas?" 

“ So far as I am concerned, certainly. And he can take a 
walk up Oxford Street on Boxing-day. We start fresh." 

“ I may as well tell you," added Grandpa, grasping the in- 


250 


PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


spector heartily by the hand — that the present is Bartholo- 
mew's rather than mine, although he might not have brought 
himself to offer it to you, but for me. " 

“ That's very kind of you, Benjamin, I'm sure. Silver- 
coated, are they?" 

“ More than silver-coated they are. And now, old friend, 
good-bye, good-bye." 

The inspector was escorting his visitor. 

“ Oh, we shall meet again soon, I dare say," he replied, 
but I hope it won't be professionally, Benjamin. Keep out 
of it." 


“ Old friend," exclaimed Grandpa, with a change of manner 
which recalled his outburst in the Kue des Petits Champs — “ I 
respect you — I do, indeed. I should grieve to hear that you 
had met with accidents. " 

Grandpa looked as fresh and spry and dignified as ever; but 
you would have said his eyes were moistening. 

“ I hope that there are no serious accidents in store for me, 
Benjamin?" 

Mr. Bingham hesitated, and then spoke out impulsively. 

‘‘ Between this time and to-morrow," said he, averting his 
glance, accidents might happen to you, old friend — they 
mighty they might !” 

‘‘I see you did rejoin your friends last night, after all, 
Benny?" 

How we do understand each other, don't we!" repeated 
Gi’andpa. 

A fresh grasp of the hand and he was gone. 

“ Well done, Benjamin," mused the inspector, gazing after 
Mr. Bingham; “ I really don't think he would like to see me 
hurt!" 

Toppin came up presently, and his colleague made ready to 
supply him with the final instructions. Mr. Toppin 's coun- 
tenance, however, w'ore a crestfallen expression that was quite 
painful. 

“ A mishap," he began. ‘‘No luck!" 

“ In a few words — " 

“ Got the anarchist's address from the hotel, and collared 
him in his lodging. Hinted at the prefecture of police, and 
put the matter to him as a fellow-revolutionist. My suspicions 
perfectly well-founded. He wouldn't lie. Told me he had 
forced Neel's portmanteau because Neel seerned to be a priest- 
lourgeois, the worst kind of bourgeois for the working-man. 
Had meant to restore to the working-man something of what 
the bourgeoisie had taken from him. Searching the special 


THE PASSEHGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. ' 251 

receptacles of the portmanteau, had found six loose diamonds, 
twisted up in a kid glove. Had meant them as a donation to 
his lodge. Resigned them on my representations. Said there 
were plenty of jewelers'* Aviiidows to be smashed in, whenever 
the anarchists chose, along the Rue de la Paix and in the 
I^alais Royal. 

“ Well, where are the stones?^^ 

‘^Infernal mishap! Went to the Grand Circus to pass an 
hour, last night being the night of the week — and — well, 
there, I must have lost them. Extraordinary I Can^t im- 
agine how it happened. Haven^’t slept a wink all night. 
Toppin did look very much upset. ‘ ‘ Ran against that old 
friend of yours there, by the way, and had a talk with him,'*'’ 
he added — ‘‘ the vicomte. 

“ Oh, ah, yes,'*'* observed the inspector; the vicomte — just 

so! You must have had your pocket picked, friend Toppin. 

There^s no French thief could pick my pocket,'*^ declared 
Toppin, somewhat indignantly. 

“ It was an English thief, perhaps? They do come over, 
you know. 

Yes, tliey do come over. But I^d like to see tiie man, En- 
glish or anything else — Ho, I must have dropped them 
somehow!'*^ 

The inspector turned to take his leave of Mr. Sinclair. 
"Idiey exchanged addresses, talked for a moment or two about 
the future, and then parted; and, from their cordial bearuig, 
TYppin judged them to bo old acquaintances. 

Mr. BydeY conference with his subordinate dealt more 2 )ar- 
ticularly with the affairs of the I. 0. T. A. 

Brother Bamber was to be carefully kept in view. That 
was a personage, remarked the inspector, who might some 
day have to* cut his long, fair, silky beard off, dye his eyebrows, 
“ stop out his front teeth, and get away. The Yard might 
possibly, one of these fine mornings, send a word to Toppin to 
look after him; and the Yard might be a day behind the 
festivity unfortunate contretongs of that description had 
occasionally occurred. It would be a goodjthing for Detect- 
ive Toppin if he could be present at the festivity, or anticipate 
it; that was how men rose in the profession. 

Brother Bamber, Paris agent of the I. 0. T. A., was play- 
ing at two or three games simultaneously. Did the inspector, 
as he threw off these suggestions, feel much confidence that 
Toppin would rise rapidly in the profession? 

The inspector stood there quite inscrutable. The sculj)tured 
features of liis meerschaum sphinx coidd not have been less 


)252 THE PASSEKGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

instinct with opinion than his own. We know, however, that 
Toppin did show great improvement in a sensational case 
wliich he conducted not long afterward. 

With regard to the position of Brother Neel, nothing in that 
matter would require Toppings notice. Mr. Toppin might do- 
well to make a visit to the Avenue Marceau, No. 95, and as- 
certain the movements of one Lydia Murdoch, lady^s-maid in 
the service of Miss Knollys. If he could strike up an acquaint- 
ance with her, it might prove useful. Friend Toppin had 
better lose no time about it. A good “ fake ” for him with 
the party in question would be the superior betting man, 
down on his luck a bit — you know — nothing loud or horsy 
— nothing common or flash: the scrupulously dressed betting 
man, with only one ring; the fellow who can talk, without 
forcing it, about the sporting baronets and noblemen he meets 
on English race-courses. See?'’^ 

Mr. Toppin said he saw, and that he fancied it was just 
what he could do. In fact he caught at the mission eagerly. 
What he saw more vividly than his own metamorphosed figure, 
thus outlined roughly for him by Inspector Byde, was the other 
figure which his duty now commanded him to approach. An 
imperial shape, in one fleeting, statuesque attitude, again de- 
fined itself before his gaze, as he stared unintelligently at his 
superior officer. Toppin — the practical Detective Thomas 
Toppin — felt absolutely nervous as he seemed to see once more 
the clear, pale face — the large, dark eyes — the dark-blue, large, 
perturbing eyes. ‘ ^ 

“ And here^s a message to the Yard which IVe written out 
for you,^^ proceeded the inspector; ‘‘ and I want you to hand 
it into the telegraph office as soon as my train starts. We 
separate here; and now, mind, I want you to watch the station 
until — 

They were standing in front of the terminus, to the right of 
the main entrance under the clock. Cabs, with travelers and 
their luggage, bound for the morning mail to England, had 
already driven up to the left side of the station, and disap- 
peared through the iron gate-way. Looking at Toppin as he 
addressed him, the inspector paused in his observations to fol- 
low the direction of that officer's fixed regard. 

One of the cabs had driven up behind them, and had there 
stopped. A female form, clad in a stylish travehng costume, 
had alighted, and that form had suddenly embodied Mr. Top- 
ping’s mental pictm-e. It was — “ the party in question. 

‘‘ ^Cre nom de noms de noms,^^ muttered Toppin, disap- 
pointed and crushed; “ she^s going away!^^ 


THE PASSENGEIl FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


253 


“ She's going by the mail/' said the inspector; ‘‘ then it's a 
rendezvous. Be olf, Toppm! Hand in the message. We 
can't bring the Kemington case home, but, by the Lord 
Harry, I'll have the man on another charge before I eat my 
Christmas dinner!" 

CHAPTER XXI. 

Opening the small packet placed in his hands by Mr. Bing- 
ham, the inspector found exactly what the circumstances of his 
colleague's misadventure led liim to expect. They were not 
anti-bilious pills, nor any pharmaceutical preparation in coat- 
ing of either silver or gold; they were finely cut brilliants of 
the purest water, and in number they were half a dozen. 

The inspector satisfied himseK upon the point without at- 
tracting the attention of his fellow-passengers. He stowed 
Mr. Finch's present away in the pocket rendered secure by the 
row of buttons; and as he reflected that he was now carrying 
back the recently stolen Wilmot diamonds, in all probability 
not one missing, he set himself, as was his wont at the con- 
clusion of successful inquiries, to review his progress step by 
step, and to examine at every successive step the environing 
possibilities of error. 

The sudden remark of a fellow-passenger that they might 
be traversing at this very moment the actual scene of the un- 
explained railway murder, broke into his analytical exercises. 
And then all the passengers got up from the places where they 
had comfortably ensconced themselves, and crowded toward 
the windows, as though the crime had not yet been committed,, 
and might be just about to begin; or as if they were unable to 
resist the notion that the assassin had remained ever since 
upon the spot, but at the side of the line, out of danger of the 
passing trains, and that, as they dashed by, he would settle 
his feet m their third position, and make his bow. 

Creil left in its rear, the mail train rushed onward to 
Amiens. It was a gray day:" not too cold, the passengers 
commented, for the season of the year — and di-y. Darkness 
would have set in some time before they steamed into Vic- 
toria, thought the inspector. 

He had his programme determined for the evening. That 
in an unknown portion of the train there was a man who 
meant to steal upon him with the dusk, he did not for an in- 
stant doubt — a man who, if they sat alone, they two, by 
chance, would bound upon him when he looked aside, or, if 
the vicinage of others held him back, would watch liim at 
arm's-length ceaselessly and in silence until they reached their 


254 : 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


journey’s end — a man who meant to dog his footsteps, and at 
the first dire opportunity to stay them — a man who at the last 
resort would check him at the threshold of his goal, and seize 
him with a reckless fury by the throat — he did not doubt that, 
somewhere in the train, that man lurked and calculated. 

Amiens and Abbeville; Boulogne; Calais. The inspector 
had not changed his place while the mail train sped over 
French soil to its destination on the coast. Here lay the Calais 
pier, however; the Channel boat placidly awaited them; and 
he should now learn whether, as he hoped, a murderer was 
resolutely following in his path. 

Yes — as he had planned it, so would be the denoimnent: oh, 
well enough he recognized the man who with bent head pushed 
into the midst of the last voyagers embarking! The tall, 
shapely woman whom the inspector likewise eyed with recog- 
nition — was she or was she not, wondered half a dozen of the 
Irresistibles grouped near the gangway, the appurtenance of 
that same personage who, with his head down, walked a little 
in advance of her and never spoke? 

The Irresistibles, French or English, in commerce or diplo- 
macy, were always ready to assist the unprotected siren “ go- 
mg across. ” Periodical travelers ‘‘ by this route,” they knew 
how to secure precious comforts for any quaking Circe who 
might have recompenses to bestow subsequently. AVhen they 
met again together, after good actions of this sort, they would 
while away the tedium of an uneventful passage by relations 
of their subsequent rewards. From the jocularities of their 
narrative style, it might then have seemed to Circe that the 
piece of magic recorded in an ancient chronicle were being 
turned against herself. The disappointment of the Irresistibles 
2)roved great, indeed, when the handsome soubretie of the May- 
fair scandal, looking, as they put it, like a duchess in disguise 
— an infelicitous locution — passed them all by as though they 
were not, and took another’s arm, the barely proffered arm of 
that Marquis-de-Eouge-et-Noir sort of customer over there — 
the gray-eyed, Koman-nosed beggar who was now making his 
way toward the extreme end of the boat — the swaggerer who, 
as an Adonis of Gaul, quite a dazzling Adonis, phrased it in a 
plaintive tone, had scanned them momentarily with V air de 
seficher du monde. 

At Dover, making his way from the landing-stage to the 
railway platform, the inspector met one or two men, in the 
attire of civilians, who stared very hard at him, but did not 
either speak or nod, and at whom he also stared hard for an 
instant, without speaking or nodding, either. They were 


THE PASSEHGEK FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


255 


squarely built men, with beards and round felt hats, and they 
carried plain walking-sticks. They did not appear to have 
any business to attend to, and they never seemed to be looking 
at the people close to them. 

The inspector knew each of these civilians, however, and 
they knew the inspector likewise, notwithstanding their re- 
ciprocal obliviousness of social usage. He turned back to ask 
the hindermost of them a question as to Sergeant Bell. On 
the Dover platform, Mr. Byde became a decidedly conspicuous 
figure. He loitered in front of the carriage he had chosen, 
until the moment before the departure of the train. That 
“ Marquis de Rouge et Noir,^^ who ignored .or forgot the dis- 
guised duchess, his companion, must assuredly have perceived 
the inspector, as he hurried into a compartment lying at no 
great distance from Mr. Byde^s. 

There was no lack of fellow-passengers for Inspector Byde 
on his through journey to Victoria. He had pointed out in 
his last words to Sir John, on the previous evening, that the 
most convenient point of Tudor Street, W., would be Vic- 
toria, and, when delivered at his destination, he loitered in a 
singularly aimless manner about the most brightly illumi- 
nated portions of the terminus. One other traveler — not two; 
the female form had disappeared — fingered about the premises 
at just the same time, though not in the most brilliantly 
illuminated portions. 

It was the hvitching hour for London clerks. Their office 
work over till the next day, they were pouring into the 
terminus in multivious streams. Any unobtrusive watcher 
could escape attention. But why should the inspector lounge 
in a railway terminus instead of proceeding to the department 
at once, there to report himself? Bor the man who meant to 
dog his footsteps it was a stroke of luck, perhaps, that the in- 
spector — arriving at his resolution, by the way, with an odd 
abruptness — told the cabman, whom he ultimately summoned, 
to drive not in the direction of Scotland Yard, but througli 
by-streets to the main thoroughfare in which stood the Silver 
Gridiron, hostelry famous for its discomfort as for its excellent 
larder. The cabman had unwittingly undergone a swift, keen 
scrutiny as he prepared to depart with the inspector in his 
vehicle. Hot one of ours had pronounced the implacable 
watcher. A second vehicle took the same road as the in- 
spector. 

The Goloonda Club, as they are well aware at the Criminal 
Investigation Department, lies just out of Soho, on the north 


25 G THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

side of Oxford Street. To this club may belong ladies as well 
as gentlemen; and no projjortionate membership of the two 
sexes has been fixed by any statute drawn up by a committee, 
nor by any edict of the proprietor. What the fees imposed in 
the Golconda Club may happen to amount to, nothing in the 
shape of public announcement would enlighten the inquirer. 
There are no tariffs displayed upon the walls; there are no 
printed papers to be obtained on application at the secretary's 
office; no manifolded circulars in violet ink, no stamped re- 
ceipts, no ledgers, no account-book. There is a secretary's 
office, with a bureau, writing materials, a waste-paper basket, 
railway guides, postal directories, and fine Ordnance maps. 
There is no secretary, however; nor has any member of the 
Golconda Club ever thrown into the waste-paper basket scraps 
of writing paper with characters inscribed thereon. Extern- 
ally, the club presents the aspect of both the adjoinmg Queen 
Anne houses, respectable and repellent, in weather-beaten 
brick. 

One of the contiguous buildings is a private institution for 
the treatment of renal disorders; another has its ground-floor 
windows filled with the fascicuh of the music publisher: its 
first-flqor rented by an Italian singing master; and its higher 
stories occupied by medical students up from the country to 
attend the Middlesex Hospital, close at hand. Within these 
dingy Queen Anne structures lie spacious and solid apartments, 
their carved and molded panelings and cornices reserving for 
the stranger an artistic surprise. 

The large room of the Golconda Club had its panels in white 
and gold. In the florid colors of the ceihng it was no difficult 
task to discern the story of a mythological incontinence. 

When Inspector Byde, after a protracted sojourn at the Sil- 
ver Gridiron, drove to the dark street in which the Golconda 
Club had flourished, to his knowledge, for three years, the 
members, male and female, had already begun to drop iu. 
Some of the gentlemen were m evening dress, others were in a 
judicious costume for the afternoon, one or two wore shooting- 
jackets, check shirts, and gaiters to their boots. A subdued 
tone pervaded their sustained, easy, and general intercourse. 
The mild ah of implicit faith wliich sat extremely well upon 
a few of them, not so long ago mere striplings, would have 
marked these out for jam tarts or bread and marmalade, in 
any company infested by the young surb urban rakes who, hav- 
ing been to Paris, Vienna, and Madrid, come back to their 
mothers and sisters, but more particularly to then- sisters’ 
school-fellows, with the unai^proachably appalling manner of 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 257 

the homme diase whose horrors of debauchery are all mysteri- 
ously implied, and all fictitious. Blase young men, with 
capitalist papas attending businesses were welcome 

guests and ready prey to the members of the Golconda. 

The male members of the club would not unfrequently be 
well born; but, base or noble of blood, most of them possessed 
and traded upon that “ air of native distinction which has 
been commonly supposed to exist specially for lovers in de- 
cayed circumstances, and for virtuous people (of attractive per- 
sonal appearance) wronged. All these men were scoundrels. 
One or two of them had been in foreign and transatlantic 
prisons; for others, deserving the same experiences, the latter 
remained yet in store; the greater number would never meet 
with their deserts. 

Among the ladies, not one could be pointed to as honestly 
exhibiting a plain face, a deficient figure, or a shabby toilet. 
AVhat they deserved — the lady members of the Golconda Club 
— had not assuredly been measured by themselves; what their 
deserts might be could not be measured by even the ‘‘ sterner 
sex, their victims: till the crack of doom it was the divine 
secret of the Eecording Angel. 

Pending the hour for settlements, the green baize tables had 
been set in the great room. The Golconda was believed to 
figure in the books of the police as merely an illegal and 
licentious gambling-club, tolerated for reasons which have their 
scientific counterpart in pathology. None of the gamblers, 
therefore, concealed their money stakes when the inspector 
was heralded as a visitor, and when he entered. He had been 
in the habit of looking in at the Golconda for a hand at whist, 
and he was known by sight to all the members. On the pres- 
ent occasion he declined to play, although urged with lavish 
blandishments by the large blonde, who had been Countess of 
Ulvermere. (She was divorced, upon the husband’s petition, 
some eighteen months before.) He lounged from table to 
table, moved listlessly from group to group, and mingled in 
such conversations as did not cease at his approach. The 
company thinned, however, in a curious way, to-night. In- 
spector Byde had come there for some one, it seemed: for 
whom? The company thinned — with no unseemly haste, but 
still with haste. He had not come alone, it was remarked. 

The inspector presently found himself with no companions 
but a slim, fair gentleman, who limped, and two ladies who 
slowly paced up and down with their arms about each other's 
waists. In the slim gentleman, now talking deferentially to 
Inspector Byde, the Chetwodes of Eadhampton would have 


258 THE PASSEKGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

recognized their cousin, Wybert Rae, expelled from his uni- 
versity just before he took to the turf as a ‘‘ gentlemen-jock/^ 
His limp would remain with him for life, a souvenir of abso- 
lutely fearless cross-country riding. His banishment from the 
turf had been due to otheir causes. At the present time his 
means of livelihood were undefinahle — that is, in the nomen- 
clature of polite definition. He could he met with, however, 
wherever Mabel Stanley, the taller of these two ladies, might 
he met with; and wherever Mabel Stanley might be met with, 
there also could be met this other lady, Alphonsine Moireau, 
the disowned daughter of a French optician established in 
Marylebone Lane. 

The noiseless folding-doors behind the inspector opened 
gradually. Two men were standing on the threshold. One 
of them entered. The doors folded noiselessly upon the other. 
The man who entered reeled and swa3^ed in his walk. 

‘‘Raphael!’^ exclaimed in a low tone Mabel Stanley (once 
Eva Grey, once Alma Vivian). 

“ Gave muttered Mile. Alphonsine, rapidly to the new- 
comer, as he stopped and gazed before him stupidly; “ Gave! 
— y a du monde ! !” 

Professor Valentine restored to us from the mansions of 
the opulent,^-’ drawled the slim, fair gentleman. ‘‘And the 
black art — how goes it, Valentine?^^ 

The new-comer took a devious course toward the last 
speaker. Face to face with Mr. Rae, he solemnly picked a 
sovereign from that gentleman^s left shoulder; immediately, 
without uttering a word, changed it into a gold ring before his 
eyes; as seriously blew the, ring back to the left shoulder, and 
there transmuted it into a silver locket. He then turned up 
his wristbands as if to prepare for more elaborate feats of 
prestidigitation. 

“ Bertie called the voluptuous Mabel, sharply. 

The ladies waited at a side-door while the ex-gentleman 
steeplechase-rider waved a jaunty salute to Inspector Byde, 
and, with his rather interesting limp, rejoined them. 

The visage of the voluptuous Mabel wore an expression of 
alarm. They pushed through the side-door; it closed after 
them noiselessly, hke the larger doors beyond. 

“ A-ha — a-ha, friend Raphael, said the inspector, musing- 
ly, as he returned from a saunter among the tables — “ A-ha — 
a-ha! — with talents like those you are a dangerous thief. Take 
my advice, now. Keep to the conjuring line, and get along 
honestly. Advertise Professor Valentine as free for penny 
readings, birthday-parties, and temperance fetes. 


THE PASSE]SrGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


259 


The inspector shot out both arms as he spoke, and appeared 
to be pulling himself together. 

Raphael swayed in the direction of the inspector, and bent a 
melting Oriental look upon him. 

“ Theen my new trickth?^^ he asked, gravely. 

From the inspector’s right shoulder he apparently extracted 
the same silver locket, which he at once changed into a Jap- 
anese fan. 

‘‘ AVatch thith,” he continued, agitating the open fan gently 
in the air. 

An artificial bird alighted on the fan from some one of the 
aerial regions known to all prestidigitateurs. 

The inspector was watching — and he was listening, too. Ho 
had held his hands down unclinched. Suddenly his lips 
parted, and he moved his arms almost imperceptibly upward 
from the elbow. 

“ Theen my trick with the handkerchief?” demanded 
Raphael,, just before him, producing one. 

“ No,” replied the inspector. 

The swaying form before him had not advanced. He could 
distinguish vaguely the white object which Professor Valentine 
still grasped, and which he had not raised. 

The inspector staggered, and for a second or two the white 
object in front of him whirled round and round, and seemed 
to be whirling everywhere. 

Raphael had not advanced, however. He still stood there, 
stupidly gazing to the right and to the left, and balancing his 
body with the starts and jolts of intoxication. 

Would it be credited — throu^i the inspector’s unhinging 
mind there fiashed at this juncture the regret that he had come 
back from the Continent without a new dish for the Camber- 
well cuisine ! 

The handkerchief had been dashed against the inspector’s 
face from behind. One hand held it tightly across his mouth 
and nostrils; another gripped him at the back of the head. 
It was no doubt while in the very act of breathing that he had 
been seized. Had he not allowed for such a contingency as 
this? Of course he must have allowed for this contingency, 
as well as for others. His respiration stopped. He clutched 
at the arm in front of him, and once more staggered. The 
vise in which his head had suddenly been taken relaxed with 
the movement. 

Now, boys!” shouted the inspector — in a deafening voice, 
as it resounded in his own ears, but very faintly to the ears of 
others. He had drawn a breath, however, and, as with both 


260 THE PASSENGER FEOM SCOTLAND YARD. 

hands he fastened upon the arm in front of him, during the 
brief and silent struggle which ensued, he inhaled the air again, 
again, and again, eagerly and greedily, his face averted from 
the cloth or coarse ample handkerchief whose sickly fumes had 
swept into his lungs, thence to drive liquid lead into the con- 
tracting veins. 

“ Now, boys!^^ called the inspector, this time more loudly. 

His assailant used his utmost efforts to free himself, but in 
vain. 

Lady and gentlemen members of the Golconda Club had 
crowded in at the noiseless doors, and were blocking the en- 
trances. They looked on at the struggle without comment 
and without concern. 

The inspector's assailant dragged him fui;iously toward the 
principal exit. At a sudden commotion, audible from outside, 
Eaphael hurried to the side-door. Vine, alias Grainger, 
dropped the handkerchief; growling almost like a wild beast, 
and his face perfectly livid, he grappled with the inspector 
with immense power. It was too late; the exertion availed 
him nothing now. 

Inspector George Byde was recovering, and he met his an- 
tagonist as he had met in times past many a murderous and 
hardy criminal. 

Sir John gasped out an appeal for rescue. None of the by- 
standers moved or spoke. In the Golconda Club there were 
few comrades, fewer friends, and no rescuers. 

A detonation rung out as the group at the side-door parted. 
Vine, alias Grainger, tore Mmself partly free, and then fired 
again. But two men rusmng from the side-door were upon 
him. For a moment, perhaps, he might elude these men, but 
escape from them would be impossible. 

“ Take him, boys!" urged the inspector, who had sunk to 
his knees. 

Vine, alias Grainger, leveled his revolver at the two men, 
and they hesitated. A by-stander, whom they called on to 
secure him, shrugged his shoulders. Officers of the law 
possessed no allies among members of the Golconda. 

“ Take him," repeated Mr. Byde, feebly; ‘‘ it's murder!" 

An oath, a reckless gesture, a third and a fourth report. 
Sir John had turned the weapon against himself, and he fell 
with a bullet through his head. 

‘‘ I'il go for trial, then," he pronounced, laboriously, as one 
of the two men stooped and lifted him into a sitting posture. 

The other of the pair aided the inspector to regain his feet, 
and stood supporting him. 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


261 


I want you/^ murmured the inspector, as his gaze en- 
countered the unsteady figure of Professor Valentine. ■ “ You 
are not drunk, you know.'’^ 

Me drunk — me!"” Kaphael hiccoughed, with a dislocating 
shock. He seemed to be positively collapsing under a seismic 
disturbance. ‘‘ Who thayth I^m drunk? Me drunk He 
held himself erect by an ostensibly miraculous feat of equili- 
brium. “ IM like to thee the man who thaid I wath!^^ 

‘‘ Mind he doesn^t escape, said the inspector, faintly to his 
companion. ‘‘We shall want him. 

Blood '^was falling in large drops to the carpeted floor at the 
inspector's feet. His left arm hung loosely from the shoulder, 
and the palm and fingers of his left hand, now relaxed and 
open, glistened in a tMckening crimson stream. He leaned 
upon his companion for support, and his features contracted in 
a momentary spasm. 

“ Serious?^^ demanded his companion, in a low tone, anx- 
iously. “ Hope not, sir?^"* 

“ Two places, replied the inspector, composing his features 
with an effort; “ left arm and shoulder. Nothing serious, 
though, I feel sure. J ust support me to where that man is 
lying. 

They approached the prostrate body of Sir John. The lat- 
ter had closed his eyes, and. was moaning in his struggles to 
breathe freely or to speak. 

The gentlemen of the Golconda Club looked on, impassive, 
silent, callous. Each for himself, and self-reliant; not one 
willing to aid his neighbor — not one capable of trusting to his 
neighbor's aid; all — the bandits, corsairs, wreckers of society. 
As the ladies and gentlemen of the Golconda — cheats and 
Delilahs, confederates and informers — stood in ston/ groups 
around the lofty and spacious apartment of the club, the tragic 
scene so rapidly enacted appeared unreal, a show, a piece of 
mere undisquieting make-believe — the rehearsal of a stage play 
in a vast and brilliant drawing-room — the actors, intense mas- 
ters of their art — the spectators, dullards. 

It was blood, however, that tracked the inspector's uncertain 
progress, as he and his companion advanced slowly to the spot 
where lay the prostrate form : blood that rained in clinging, 
viscous drops through his numbed fingers, from his nerveless 
arm: blood that flowed into the shining, irregular, red patch 
underneath the dying many’s head, and swelled the red patch 
there into a vermilion pool. 

“ If we could have hindered that murmured the in- 

spector, regretfully. “ The case would have led up to sensa- 


262 THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

tional evidence. Ah., what I could have brought out! The 
public might have had a glimpse of what goes on beneath the 
surface. ” 

“He^s done it too well/^ said Mr. Sydor’s companion. 
“ But yourself — ^how do you feel yourself, inspector?^'’ 

‘‘ Eunning down fast. But it^s only a faint, I^m sure. Hit 
in the shoulder. Tell Marsh to prop that man's head up. I 
can't speak loudly enough. " 

The other of the two strange men had knelt by the side of 
Sir John, and was loosening the latter's garments at the neck. 
In obedience to the direction, he at once gently placed the 
prone figure in a recumbent posture, which afforded the dying 
man almost instantaneous relief. His respiration became less 
labored, and he unclosed his eyes. 

“ Vine!" called the inspector, summoning up his energies. 

The gray eyes turned mechanically in the direction of the 
sound. They encountered the inspector's face, and they trav- 
eled no further. A look of recognition dimly lighted them 
up, and dawned through the lines of the pale, convulsed vis- 
age. It seemed at though the ebbing spirit had been arrested 
on its path — arrested by that peremptory summons, and, for 
an instant, recalled. 

‘^Vine!" repeated the inspector, more loudly; “if I put a 
question to you — can you answer?" 

Marsh bent forward to catch the whisper from the bloodless 
lips. With the whisper issued from the blanched lips a thread 
of livid crimson, which gradually broadened in its downward 
course. “ Yes," came the answer, followed by words only 
audible to the man stooping forward. 

“ He says he's going for trial," said Marsh. 

“ ArS we to take Finch for the railway murder?" demanded 
Mr. Byde. “ Are we to take him — come?" 

“ No!" was the distinct reply. 

“You are very ill, you know," pursued the inspector. “ I 
am afraid you have hurt yourself seriously. Come! — who shot 
that man, and got away so cleverly?" 

Still fixed upon the inspector, the gray eyes had nevertheless 
a gaze in ^ them that went beyond him, elsewhere, far away. 
Once more, it was the constable in plain clothes. Marsh, who 
interpreted the barely articulate sounds. 

“ He says he'll take his trial — upstairs." 

“ Listen to me. Vine!" commanded the inspector, with a 
failing voice. “ Are you guilty, or not guilty — ^you hear — 
guilty, or not guilty?" 

“ Guilty," whispered Sii’ John. His eyes wandered from 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


263 


Inspector Byde to the man who was supporting him, and who 
had picked up the revolver; and as the light from above flashed 
along the bright metal chambers, the gray eyes rested for a 
moment upon the fire-arm itself, and then, with a vacant ex- 
pression, drooped and closed. ‘‘ Guilty, he sighed, while a 
frown appeared to gather about his brow — “ and cleverly — but 
— I shot him — and — he is waking— must — 

The crimson stream sluggishly trickling from his mouth 
welled forth in a sudden volume, and from his forehead the 
gathering frown faded. As the head fell on one side, the 
muscles of the visage no longer at their painful tension, a 
slight stir from the surrounding groups proved that, among 
the silent members of the Golconda Club, there were some, at 
any rate, who had attentively followed the scene. Indeed, a 
few fans were fluttering vigorously before a few white faces; 
and the large blonde, whose affability with Inspector Byde has 
been alluded to, belied her brazen smile and stare by an abrupt 

f esture of repugnance, and by a smothered phrase of pity. 

he had herself been the cause of bloodshed, as she would 
complacently recount to other ladies, and to gilded youth about 
the town. The sight of blood, however, endure she could not 
— she could not, really! 

“ Gone,^^ pronounced the constable in plain clothes. Marsh, 
allowing the lifeless body to sink at full length to the groxmd 
— “ gone, as he said, for trial!^^ 

‘‘ How is it you were twice late?’^ complained the inspector, 
in a feeble tone. ‘‘ The telegram I told Toppin to send off 
must have reached the Yard early in the day?""^ 

“ Sergeant Bell thought that Toppin must have been under 
a misapprehension when he telegraphed. 

Sergeant Bell thought? Sergeant Bell thought mut- 
tered the inspector, leaning heavily against his companion. 
‘‘ There are too many Sergeant Bells at Scotland Yard. ‘ Ser- 
geant Bell thought!^ Take care of that revolver. I want it 
for the Eemingtoii affair. 

“ How do you feel, sir?’^ asked the plain-clothes constable. 
Marsh. “ Let me get some brandy for you, here?^^ 

“ Hot here — not here! And donT leave me, either of you. 
They know that I have valuables in my possession. DonT 
leave me!’^ Upon uttering which injunction. Inspector Byde 
lost consciousness. 

Some of the gentlemen members of the Golconda began to 
stroll toward the police-officers. 

“ Stand back, you all of you!^^ exclaimed Constable 

Marsh, savagely. 


264 THE PASSEKGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

Christmas-day had passed; Mr. Finch had reaped his harvest 
from the popular revelries of the succeeding forty-eight hours, 
and the same, in riotous living, had partially expended: and 
Inspector George Byde found himself permitted by his medical 
adviser, by Mrs. Byde, and by the weather, to repair at easy 
stages to the officers of the chief, opposite Whitehall. 

The inspector was much paler than we have seen him since 
the outset of his mission on the subject of the AVilmot (Park 
Lane) inquiry, ‘‘ with confidential instructions as to possible 
issues therein involved. He wore his left arm in a black 
silk scarf; and the chief, after a keen glance at him, pushed 
an easy-chair forward with his foot, and invited Inspector 
Byde to sit down. 

The chief stated, in brief, metallic accents, that he had the 
report of the departmental surgeon before him, and that he 
had been pleased to' know that from the inspector's injuries 
there would be no complications to be feared. He had just 
gone through the report dictated by the inspector to an amanu- 
ensis, on the previous day. The suggestions relating to mat- 
ters extraneous to the inquiry intrusted to him should be duly 
noted; prompt action would be taken upon them whenever 
apparent necessity should arise. 

When identifying the abstracted valuables recovered for him 
by the department, Mr. Stanislas Wilmot had expressed very 
great astonishment that any officer should have been able to 
secure the missing property absolutely intact, and had request- 
ed that the officer who had conducted the case with such sig- 
nal success might call upon him to receive some personal re- 
ward. He (the chief) need not say that Inspector Byde would 
be fully aware of the departmental regulation on this point. 

AVith regard to Mr. Stanislas Wilmot himself, facts which 
had been quite recently communicated to them would render 
it advisable to pay some attention to the business dealings of 
the Wilmot firm in Hatton Garden. A supervision would be 
arranged for, and if active measures should turn out to be nec- 
essary, Inspector Byde would be consulted. 

As to the original robbery from the strong-room of the Park 
Lane private residence, it was incredible that Sergeant Bell 
should have allowed the man Forsyth to elude him. Forsyth 
had been supposed to fill a place in AVilmot^s employment as 
butler. That appeared to be only nominally the state of the 
case. Forsyth possessed some sort of hold upon this Mr. 
Stanislas Wilmot. 

“ AYe found the locksmith to whom Forsyth took certain 
keys, a few months ago, with an order for duplicates,^-’ con- 


THE PASSEHGER EBOM SCOTLAND YARD. 265 

tinned the chief; but Bell entirely broke down in the super- 
vision he was told to exercise, and when we wanted the man 
Bors}dh, he was well out of the way. We have reason for pre- 
suming that he made a dash for Holland. The Eemington 
affair has been explained by telegram and correspondence to 
the Paris authorities. One or two of the French newspapers, 
just to hand, deal with the murder in a style that is worih 
your looking at. I have ordered the papers to be put, by for 
you. A narrow escape you ran, it seems, at the hands of our 
worthy friend, IVIichel Hy. He is publishing a little work, by 
the way — a book of wild theorizing, for the use of visionary 
continental detectives; I have an advance copy from him some- 
where about, and if you like to k)ok at it while you are away 
from duty — 

The inspector, who knew his chief to be a man of the very 
fewest wdrds, inferi-ed from the unaccustomed length of the 
observations vouchsafed to him that the Yard rated his 
expeditious return/ with the whole of the missing valuables, a 
greater achievement than either his colleagues or his superiors 
would be wilhng to admit explicitly. 

Wild theorizing! That was the spirit in which they met 
originality — that was how they dismissed any conscientious 
searching after improved methods! They would be describing 
him — Inspector George Byde — as a wild theorist, next! 

While awaiting his interview with the chief, he had proved 
the theorem that if one side of a triangle be produced, the ex- 
terior angle shall be greater than either of the interior opposite 
angles; that any two angles of a triangle are together less- than 
two right angles; and that the greater angle of every triangle 
is subtended hy the greater side. He had been interrupted in 
a languid examination of the problem : To make a triangle of 
which the sides shall be equal to three given straight lines; but 
any two whatever of these must be greater than the third. If 
any one went into his room down-stairs, during his absence, 
thought the inspector, and found his book upon the table — 
his book, and the scrap of paper covered with diagrams — they 
would laugh at him and his exercises, no doubt! And yet 
how those exercises had cleared his head and braced his mind 
up for this interview! 

‘‘We shall have to reconsider the position of the Golconda,^^ 
continued the chief. “ As you have seen from the memoranda 
furnished by Sergeant Bell, the woman who applied at the 
Knightsbridge post-office for letters addressed ‘ Adelaide,^ to 
be left tiU called for, was the Jane Clark, of South Bank, St. 
Johns’s Wood, who has undergone terms of imprisonment for 


266 THE rASSEHGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 

* long firm ^ swindles under the aliases of Daisy Dacre, Violet 
Vere, etc. ; and there is not the slightest doubt that she has 
been allowed to go on using the Golconda, in spite of their 
pledge to us. We trace that woman to various resorts in com- 
pany with the man Eemington. Among other of her exploits, 
she proved as his principal creditor in the liquidation of his 
eitate last year. Nothing connects her directly with this case, 
although the name and address noted upon the morsel of paper 
found near the body of the deceased had evidently been agreed 
upon between them, the handwriting being, so far as we can 
pronounce, that of the deceased himself. She must have 
formed the link of communication with Forsyth, but we can 
not prove that. Your hint to explain the intervention of tlie 
man Vine would appear to be well founded. Somebody about 
the premises, or having access to them, must have been watch- 
ing Forsyth,’ and must have been cognizant of hiS relations 
with Eemington. Who? That is more than we can say. 
Not, at any rate, the Brother Neel with rospect to whom you 
have reported favorably. And that reminds me. We shall 
put this Maelstrom business under your charge. One of these 
so-called good templar leagues, professedly created for ‘ re- 
claiming ^ the English artizan of the manufacturing towns, 
but unquestionably a socialist organization of the most deter- 
mined character, is latterly in correspondence with both Paris 
and Vienna. Their programme and methods are expected to 
form new departures. You will be good enough to give your 
attention to this, inspector; we think you are just the man for 
the work. ” 

By that barely perceptible shake of the head, the inspector 
betrayed a misgiving. He knew his bias. It was too bad to 
be thus constantly exposed to the temptation of endeavoring 
to atone by a public triumph for his one mistake. Ah — cer- 
tainly it would be sweet to strike a blow at all these cant- 
ing fellows; but, as he impressed so often upon his son. Master 
Edgar, ‘‘where the prejudice is strong, the judgment will 
be weak.^^ His own prejudice ran very strong in the par- 
ticular domain of the I. 0. T. A. brethren and their like. 
He could not stand them. WerenT they always posing for 
the monopoly of the Christian virtues? wouldn’t you think, to 
hear them prate, that all these dear-friend, brethren-fellows 
were heaven-sent teachers of a patented morality? Yes; and 
when he remembered what he possessed at home, tied up with 
red tape, indorsed, and put away in pigeon-holes — ha! — it 
made him smile to hear them prate, some of them, and to see 
them pose. There were a few of the hierarchs whose private 


THE PASSENGER FROM SCOTLAND YARD. 


267 


lives had oddly strayed within the ken of Scotland Yard. If 
they owned the monopoly of the Christian virtues, why could 
they not let by-gones be by-gones — why^id they cherish rancor 
and bear malice — why was that money-niaking enterprise, the 
organ of the I. 0. T. A. in the press, endlessly to be girding 
at himself, George Byde, because of a single mistake? Well, 
they must go on as they might deem proper. Let them gird! 
In the future Brother Neel had better keep his hands clean. 

It was much more soothing to think of Mr. Sinclair and 
Miss Adela Knollys. Their course of true love had rmi 
smooth; and the course of true love ran too often in rough, 
dark, and tortuous ways; channels that the frailest or most 
foolish obstacle would sometimes jDart forever; sources that 
would brusquely separate, diverge, flow on — the one unruffled, 
pure, and bright; the other clouded, acrid, and impetuous — 
flow on, diverging ever, to never, never reunite. They both 
flowed into the sea, at last, these water-courses, mused the in- 
spector wisely; alas! too often they were different seas, wide as 
the poles asunder, but salt, each of them, with tears. How 
she reminded him. Miss Adela Knollys, of his own dear fair- 
haired little daughter. May! If she could have lived — ah! if 
their poor child only could have lived — 

‘‘And now, inspector, concluded the chief, wheeling his 
chair round to his bureau, with an air which the inspector 
understood — “ it is only due to you to add that the department 
have full confidence in your abilities.’’^ 

“ I have done my best. Sir Boland, ^’answered the inspector, 
on his feet at once, and erect, “ and if I have only been par- 
tially successful in the matter of the supplementary confiden- 
tial instructions — another time — 

“ What? — Oh — Why, weNe nothing to complain of! Your 
direct instructions were to recover abstracted property, and 
that was all — a packet of loose diamonds — exceedingly difficult 
undertaking, given the circumstances. Well, youNe done so, 
haven T you?^^ 

“ Thank you. Sir Boland, answered the inspector, salut- 
ing. He crossed the room, closed the” door behind him, and 
stood for a moment on the threshold, meditating. 

“ Well, yes, he added, in a tone of corroboration — “ Q. 

E. E."" 


THE END. 


ADVERTISEMENTS. 




produces not only a saving 
of time and labor to the in> 
telligent laundress, who with- 
out it tries to make elbow- 
power and soap do what they 
seldom accomplish. It is a 
relief to the pocket of the 
master of the house, and the 
conscience of the house- 
mother. She feels herself to 
136 personally responsible for the condition of the 
linen, which comes up from the weekly wash ill-smell- 
ing and dingy, or, if white, is eaten as by a cotton- 
loving species of moths into holes by washing Soda, 
beloved of the lazy, abhorred by the thrifty. Pearline, 
used according to the directions, which accompany 
each package, softens hard water, extracts grease, bleaches white goods ” 
without damage to the finest fabric, and cleanses paint to perfection. In the 
decade that has elapsed since the introduction of it into American kitchens, 
the demand has steadily and rapidly increased, until, in 1886, 14,000,000 pack- 
ages were required to supply the market; the demand in 1887 was still larger. 
This mass of truth-telling figures is eloquen t and unsurmountable. 

JAMES PYLE, New York. 


The New York Fashion Bazar Book of the Toilet. 

PRICE 25 CENTS. 

This is a little book which we can recommend to every lady for the Preserva- 
tion and Increase of Health and Beauty. It contains full directions for all the 
arts and mysteries of personal decoration, and for increasing the natural 
graces of form and expression. All the little affections of the skin, hair, eyes 
and body, that detract from appearance and happiness, are made the sub- 
jects of precise and excellent recipes. Ladies are instructed how to reduce 
their weight without injury to health and without producing pallor and weak- 
ness. Nothing necessary to a complete toilet book of recipes and valuable 
advice and information has been overlooked in the compilation of this volume. 

GEORGE MUNRO, Munro's Publishing House, 

(P. O. Box 3751.) 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New York. 



These famous and unrivaled Pills PURIFY THE BLOOD, and act pow- 
erfully, yet soothingly, on the LIVER and STOMACH, and relieve INDIGES- 
TION, NERVOUS DEBILITY, DYSPEPSIA, SICK HEADACHE, SLEEP- 
LESSNESS, BILIOUSNESS, and are wonderfully efficacious in all ailments 
Incidental to FEMALES, Young or Old. Sure cure for PIMPLES and ALL 
ERUPTIONS of the SKIN. Price 50 cents per box, 6 boxes for $2.50. Sent 
by mall on receipt of price. Address gRAHAM HIEDICAIj CO., 
191 Fulton Street, Brooklyn, N. Y., or P. O. Box 2124, New*York. 

OLD SLEUiH’S BEST DETECTIVE STOEY. 

“THE SHADOW DETECTIVE.” 

By OLD SLEUTH, 

Author of'’' The Gvpsy Detective^" “ The Irish Detective'' etc., etc. 
Handsomely Bound in Paper Covers. Printed in large type on fine paper. 

PRICE 50 CENTS. 

“THE SHADOW DETECTIVE,” one of Old Sleuth's great stories, is now of- 
fered in an attractive volume for fifty cents. Thousands have heard of this 
wonderful story, and it will be found fully to merit its great popularity as a serial. 

It may be had of all new^sde-nlers, or will be sent bv mail on recemt of price, 
60 cents, by the publisher. Address GEORGE MUNRO, Munro’s Publishino 
House, 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, N. Y. (P. O. Box 3751.) 


M U N RO 'S PURI. ICATIONS. 

The Seaside Library 25-Cent Edition. 

WITH HAMDSOME LITHOGRAPHED PAPER COVER. 

ilLcWAYS Ur«CIIAI«eEI> AND UNABKIDCiED. 


Persons who wish to purchase the fpllowing works in a complete 
and unabridged form are cautioned to order and see that they get 
The Seaside Library, as works published in other Libraries are 
frequently abridged and incomplete. Every number of The Sea- 
side Library is 

ALWAYS UNCHANGED AND UNABRIDGED. 

Newsdealers wishing catalogues of Thu Seaside Library, 25-Cent Edi- 
tion, bearing their imprint, will be supplied on sending their names, 
addresses, and number required. 

The works in The Seaside Library, 25-Cent Edition, are printed from 
larger type and on better paper than any other series published. 

The following works are for sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to 
any address, postage prepaid, on receipt of price, 25 cents each, by the 
publisher. Address 

GEORGE MUNRO, DIcnro’s Publishing House, 

P. O. Box 3751, 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, N. Y. 

\_When ordeHng by mail please order by numbers.'] 


NO. PRICE, 


1 Lady Val worth’s Diamonds. By 

“ The Duchess ” 25 

2 A True Magdalen. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme 25 

3 A House Party, and Afternoon 

and Other Sketches. By 

“ Ouida.” 25 

1 For Another’s Sin; or, A Strug- 
gle for Love. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme 25 

6 Mohawks. By Miss M. E. Brad- 
don, First half 25 

5 Mohawks. By Miss M. E. Brad- 

don, Second half 25 

6 Dick’s Sweetheart; or, “ O Ten- 

der Dolores !” “ The Duchess ” 25 

7 A Woman’s Error. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme 25 

8 Lady Branksmere, By ” The 

Duchess” 25 

9 The World Between Them. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme 25 

10 Wife in Name Only. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme 25 

11 Kidnapped. By Robert Louis 

Stevenson 25 

12 A Mental Struggle. By “The 

Duchess ” 25 

13 Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and 

Mr. Hyde, and Prince Otto. By 
Robert Louis Stevenson 25 

14 Thorns and Oraaige-Blossoms. 

By Charlotte M. Braeme 25 

15 Set in Diamonds. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme 25 

16 A Broken Wedding-Ring. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme 25 

17 Her Martyrdom, By Charlotte 


M. Braeme.., 25 


NO. PRICE. 

18 Beyond Pardon.. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme 25 

19 Doris’s Fortune. By Florence 

Warden 25 

20 Doctor Cupid. Rhoda Broughton 25 

21 The Guilty River. Wilkie Collins 25 

22 A Golden Heart. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme 25 

23 By Woman’s Wit. Mrs. Alexander 25 

24 She: A History of Adventure, 

By H. Rider Haggard 25 

25 Pure Gold, By Mrs. H. Lovett 

Cameron. First half 25 

25 Pure Gold. By Mrs. H. Lovett 

Cameron. Second half 25 

26 A Cardinal Sin. Hugh Conway 25 

27 My Friend Jim. W. E. Norris. 25 

28 That Other Person. By ]\Irs. Al- 

fred Hunt. First half 25 

28 That Other Person. By Mrs. Al- 

fred Hunt. Second half 25 

29 Called Back. B.vHugh Conway 25 

30 The Witch’s Head. By H. Rider 

Haggard 25 

31 King Solomon’s Mines, By H. 

Rider Haggard 25 

32 Alice’s Adventures ia Wonder- 

land. By Lewis Carroll 25 

33 At War With Herself. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme 25 

34 Fair Women. By Mrs. Forrester 25 

35 A Fallen Idol. By F. Anstey. . . 25 

36 The Mark of Cain. By Andrew 

Lang 25 

87 A Crimson Stain. By Annie 
Bradshaw 25 

38 At Bay. By Mrs. Alexander — 25 

39 Vice Versa. By F. Anstey 2# 


2 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— 25 Cent Edition. 


40 The Case of Reuben Malachi. By 

H. Sutlierland Edwards 25 

41 The Mayorof Casterbridge. By 

Thomas Hardy 25 

42 New Arabian Nights. By Rob- 

ert Louis StevenS'Ui 25 

43 Dark Days. By Hugh Conwaj’. 25 

44 King Artlmr. By Miss Mulock. . 25 

45 Living or Dead. Hugh Conway 25 
4G A Wicked Girl. Mary Cecil Haj' 25 

47 Bound by a Spell. Hugh Conway 25 

48 Beaton’s Bargain. By Mrs. Alex- 


ander 25 

49 I Have Lived and Loved. By 

Mrs. Forrester 25 

50 The Secret of Her Life. By Ed- 

ward Jenkins 25 

51 The Haunted Chamber. By 

“The Duchess” 25 

52 Uncle Max. By Rosa Nouchette 

Carey. First half 25 

52 Uncle Max. By Rosa Nouchette 

Carey. Second half 25 

53 Maid, Wife, or Widow ? and 

Ralph Wilton’s Weird. By 
Mrs. Alexander 25 

54 A Woman’s Temptation. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme 25 

.55 Once Again. Mrs. Forrester 25 

56 Vera Nevill; or. Poor Wisdom’s 

Chance. Mrs.H.Lovett Cameron 25 

57 The Outsider Hawley Smart. . 25 

58 Jess. By H. Rider Haggard 25 

59 Dora Thorne. By Charlotte M. 

Braeme 25 

GO Queenie’s Whim. By Rosa Nou- 
chette Carey. 1st half 25 

CO Queenie’s Whim. By Rosa Nou- 
chette Carey. 2d half 25 

61 Hilaiy’s Folly. By Charlotte M. 

Braeme 25 

C2 Barbara Heathcote's Trial. By 

Rosa N. Carey. 1st half 25 

62 Barbara Heathcote’s Trial. By 

Rosa N. Carey, 2d half 25 

63 Between Two Sins, and Wedded 

and Parted. By Charlotte M. 

64 A Bachelor’s Blunder. By W. 

E. Norris 25 

65 Nellie’s Memories. Rosa Nou- 

chette Carey. 1st half 25 

65 Nellie’s Memories, Rosa Nou- 

chette Carey. 2d half 25 

66 Repented at Leisure. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme 25 


17 Wooed and Married. By Rosa 
Nouchette Cnrey. 1st half. .. 25 

67 Wooed and Married. By Rosa 

Nouchette Carey. Sd half . . . 25 

68 The Merry Men. By Robert 

Louis Stevenson 25 

69 Not Like Other Girls. By Rosa 

Nouchette Carey 25 

70 0th mar. By“Ouida.” 1st half 25 

70 Othmar. By“Ouida.” 2d half 25 

71 Robert Ord’s Atonement. By 

Rosa Nouchette Carey 25 


Sunshine and Roses. B3' Char- 
lotte M. Braeme 25 

For Lilias. By Ro.sa Nouchette 

Care.v. First half 25 

For Lilias. By Rosa Nouchette 

Care.v. Second half 25 

Les Mis6rables. By Victor 

Hugo. Parti 25 

Les Mis6rables. B}*^ Victor 

Hugo. Part II 25 

Les Mis6rables. By Victor 

Hugo. Part III 25 

One Tiling Needful. B3' Miss M. 

E. Braddon 25 

The Master Passion. By Flor- 
ence Marry at 25 

Marjorie. Charlotte M. Braeme 25 
Under Two Flags. By “ Ouida ” 25 
The Dark House. By George 

Manville Fenn 25 

The House on the Marsh, By 

Florence Warden 25 

In a Grass Country. B3' Mrs. H. 

Lovett Cameron 25 

Why Not? By Florence Marryat 25 
Weavers and Weft; or, “ Love 
That Hath Us in His Net.” 

B3' Miss M. E. Braddon 25 

The Professor. By Charlotte 

Bront6 25 

The Trumpet-Major. By Thomas 

Hardy 25 

The Dead Secret. Wilkie Collins 25 
Deldee; or. The Iron Hand. B3' 

Florence Warden 25 

Springhaven. R. D. Blackmore. 

First half 25 

Springhaven, R. D. Blackmore. 

Second half 25 

A Vagrant Wife. By Florence 

Warden 25 

Struck Down. By Hawley Smart 25 
At the World’s Mercy. By' Flor- 
ence Warden 25 

Claribel’s Love Story ; or, Love’s 
Hidden Depths. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme 25 

The Shadow of a Sin. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme 25 

Court Royal. ' By S. Baring- 

Gould 25 

Faith and Unfaith. By “The 

Duchess ” 25 

Cherry Ripe., By Helen B. 

Mathers *. 25 

Little Tu’penny. By S. Baring- 

Gould 25 

Cometh Up as a Flower. By 

Rhoda Broughton 25 

From Gloom to Sunlight. By 

Charlotte M, Braeme 25 

Redeemed by Love. Py Char- 
lotte M. Braeme 25 

A Woman’s War. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme 26 

’Twixt Smile and Tear. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme 25 

Lady Diana’s Pride. By Char- 

M. Braeme / 25 


72 

73 

73 

74 

74 

74 

75 

76 

77 

78 

79 

80 

81 

82 

83 

84 

85 

86 

87 

88 

88 

89 

90 

91 

92 

98 

94 

95 

96 

97 

98 

99 

100 

101 

102 

103 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— 25 Cent Edition. 


3 


104 Sweet Cymbeliue. By Charlotte 

M. Braeine 25 

105 The Belle of Lynn. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeine 25 

106 Dawn. By H. Rider Haggcard.. 25 

107 The 'I’inted Venus. ByF. Anstey 25 

108 Addie’s Husband; or, Through 

Clouds to Sunshine 25 

109 The Rabl)i’s Spell. By Stuart 

C. Cumberland 25 

110 Cornin’ Thro’ the Rye. By 

Helen B. Mathers 25 

111 Phyllis. By ‘‘The Duchess”... 25 

112 Tinted Vapours. ByJ. Maclaren 

Cobban 25 

113 A Haunted Life. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme 25 

114 The Woodlanders. By Thomas 

Hardy 25 

115 Wee Wifie. By Rosa Nouchette 

Carey 25 

116 Worth Winning. By Mrs. H. 

Lovett Cameron 25 

117 Sabina Zembra. By William 

Black. First half 25 

117 Sabina Zembra. By William 

Black. Second half 25 

118 For Maimie’s Sake. By Grant 

Allen 25 

119 Good-bye, Sweetheart! By 

Rhoda Broughton 25 

120 Dolores. By Mrs. Forrester 25 

131 Rossmoyne. By “The Duchess” 25 

122 A Girl’s Heart 25 

123 Garrison Gossip: Gathered in 

Blaukhampton. By John 
Strange Winter 25 

124 File No. 113. By Emile Gaboriau 25 

125 King Solomon’s Wives. By 

Hyder Ragged 25 

126 He. By, the author of “King 

Solomon’s Wives” 25 

12? The Romance of a Poor Young 

Man. By Octave Feuillet 25 

128 Hilda. By Charlotte M. Braeme 25 

129 The Master of the Mine. By 

Robert Buchanan 25 

130 Portia. Bv “ The Duchess ”... 25 

131 Matt: A Tale of a Caravan. 


132 Mrs. Geoff rej'. “The Duchess” 25 

133 June. By Mrs. Forrester 25 

134 In Durance Vile. By “ The 

Duchess ” 25 

135 Diana Carew. Mrs. Forrester. 25 

136 Loys, Lord Berresford. By 

“ The Dufchess ” 25 

137 My Lerd andMyLady. By Mrs. 

Forrester 25 

138 Airy Fairy Lilian. By “ The 

Duchess” 25 

189 Viva. By Mrs. Forrester 25 

140 Molly Bawn. “ The Duchess ” 25 

141 Rhona. By Mrs. Forrester — 25 

142 Beauty’s Daughters. By “ The 

Duchess” 25 

143 A Maiden All Forlorn. By “ The 

Duchess” 25 


The Mystery of Colde Fell; or, 
Not Proven. By Charlotte M. 

Braeme 25 

Borderland Jessie Fothergill 25 
A Prince of Darkness. By 

Florence Warden 25 

Roy and Viola. By Mrs. For- 
rester 25 

Doris. By “ The Duchess ” 25 

Mignon. B}^ Mrs. Forrester... 25 

The Crime of Christmas Day. . . 25 

The Squire’s Darling. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme 25 

Robur the Conqueror. By Jules 

Verne 25 

A Dark Marriage Morn. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme 25 

Within an Inch of His Life. By 

Emile Gaboriau 25 

Other People’s Money. By 

Emile Gaboriau 25 

Gold Elsie. By E. Marlitt 25 

Her Second Love. Bj" Charlotte 

M. Braeme 25 

East Lynne. By Mrs. Henry 

Wood. First half 25 

East Lynne. By Mrs. Henry 

Wood. Second half 25 

On Her Wedding Morn. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme 25 

Allan Quatermain. By H. Rider 

Haggard 25 

The Duke’s Secret. By Char- 
lotte M Braeme 25 

Old Ma’ra’selle’s Secret. By E. 

Marlitt 25 

The Shattered Idol. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme 25 

A Modern Circe. By “The Duch- 
ess ” 25 

Handy Andy. A Tale of Irish 

Life. By Samuel Lover 25 

The Earl’s Error. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme 25 

Scheherazade: A London 
Night's Entertainment. By 

Florence Warden 25 

The Duchess. By “ The Duch- 

25 

1\1 arvel. By “ The Duchess ”... 25 
Driver Dallas. By J. S. Winter. 25 
Home Again. By George Mac- 
donald 25 

The Frozen Pirate. By W. Clark 

Russell 25 

Faust. B 5 ’^ Goethe 25 

The Three Guardsmen. By Alex- 
ander Dumas 2.5 

Moths. By“Ouida” 25 

The Moonstone. Wilkie Collins 25 
Jane Eyre. Charlotte Brout6.. 25 
Old Myddleton’s Money. By 

Mary Cecil Hay 25 

Harry Lorrequer. By Charles 

Lever 25 

Middlemarch. By George Eliot. 

First half 25 

Middlemarch. By George Eliot. 
Second half 25 


144 

145 

146 

147 

148 

149 

150 

151 

152 

153 

154 

155 

156 

157 

158 

158 

159 

160 

161 

162 

163 

164 

165 

166 

167 

168 

169 

170 

171 

172 

173 

174 

175 

176 

177 

178 

179 

180 

180 


4 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY~25-Cent Edition. 


181 Monsieur Lecoq. By Emile 

Gaboriau. Vol. 1 25 

181 Monsieur Lecoq. By Emile 

Gaboriau. Vol. TI 25 

182 20,000 J..eag:ues Under the Seas. 

By Jules Verne 25 


183 Charles O’Malley, the Irish Dra- 
goon. Charles Lever. 1st half 25 

183 Charles O’Malley, the Irish Dra- 

goon. Charles Lever. 2d half 25 

184 The Tour of the World in 80 


Da 3 -s. By Jules Verne 25 

185 John Halifax, Gentleman. By 

Miss Mulock. First half 25 

185 John Halifax, Gentleman. By 

Miss Mulock. Second half. . . 25 

186 Adam Bede. By George Eliot. 

186 Adam Bede. By George Eliot. 

Second half 25 

187 The Wreck of the “ Grosvenor.” 

By W. Clark Russell 25 

188 Masaniello; or, The Fishei’man 

of Naples. Alexander Dumas 25 

189 A Tale of Three Lions, and On 

Going Back, by H. Rider 
Haggard. Ti*easure Island, 
by Robert Louis Stevenson. . . 25 

190 The Misadventures of John 

Nicholson, and An Inland 
Voyage. By Robert Louis 
Stevenson 25 

191 Texar’s Vengeance; or, North 

vs. South. By Jules Verne. 
Part 1 25 

191 Texar’s Vengeance; or, North 

vs. South. By Jules Verne. 
Part II 25 

192 Lady Grace. By Mi-s. Henry 

Wood 25 

193 Hidden Perils. By Maiy Cecil 

Hay 25 

194 The Last Days of Pompeii. By 

Bulwer Lytton 25 

195 Twenty Years After. By Alex- 

ander Dumas 25 

196 Lady Audley’s Secret. By Miss 

M. E. Braddon 25 

197 Signa’s Sweetheart. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme 25 

198 Mona's Choice. By Mrs. Alex- 

199 The Bride of the Nile. By 

George Ebers. First half 25 

199 The Bride of the Nile. By 
George Ebers. Second half.. 25 


200 Confessions of an English Opi- 

um-Eater, and The English 
]\Iail-Coach. By Thomas De 
Quincey 25 

201 A Life Interest. By Mrs. Alex- 

ander 25 

The foregoing works are for sale 
any address, postage free, on receipt < 
Address GEORGE MUNRO, 
(P. O. Box 3751.) 


202 The Lady of the Lake. By Sir 


Walter Scott, Bart 26 

203 The l3th Hussars. By Emile 

Gaboriau 25 

204 A Queer Race. By William 

Westall 25 

205 Only the Governess. By Rosa 

Nouchette Carey..'. 25 

206 Herr Paulus: His Rise, His 

Greatness and His Fall. By 
Walter Besant. 25 

207 Vendetta! or. The Story of One 

Forgotten. By Marie Corelli. 25 

208 Saint Michael. By E. Werner. 

First half 25 

208 Saint Michael. By E. Werner. 

Second half 25 

209 Stormy Waters. By Robert Bu- 

25 

210 Only a Coral Girl. Bj' Gertrude 

Forde 25 

211 The Mystery of a Hansom Cab. 

By Fergus W. Hume 25 

212 Beautiful Jim: of the Blank- 

shire Regiment. By J. S. 
Winter 25 

213 The Slaves of Paris. By Emile 

Gaboriau. First half 25 

213 The Slaves of Paris. By Emile 

Gaboriau. Second half 25 

214 Bertha’s Secret. By F. Du Bois- 

gobey*. First half ‘ 25 

214 Bertha’s Secret. By F. Du Bois- 

gobey. Second half 25 

215 The Severed Hand. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. First half 25 

215 The Severed Hand. By F. I)u 

Boisgobey. Second half 25 

216 The Matapan Affair. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. First half 25 

216 The Matapan Affair. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. Second half 25 

217 The Old Age of Monsieur Lecoq. 

By F. Du Boisgobey. First 
half 25 

217 The Old Age of Monsieur Lecoq. 

By F. Du Boisgobey. Second 
half 25 

218 The Little Old Man of the Bat- 

ignolles. By Emile Gaboriau 25 

219 Chris. By W. E. Norris 25 

220 A Woman’s Face; or, A Lake- 

land Mystery. By Florence 

221 Nora. By Carl Detlef 25 

222 Mr. Meeson’s Will. By H. Rider 

Haggard 25 

223 The Legacy of Cain. By Wilkie 

Collins 25 

224 The Fatal Thre«. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon 25 


225 The Strange Adventures of a 
House-Boat. By Wm. Black. 25 

by all newsdealers, or will be sent to 
•f price, 25 cents each, by the publisher 
Miinro’s Publishing House, 

17 to 27 Vandewatei- Street, New York. 


MUNRO’S PUBLICATIONS. 

The Seaside Llbrary-PocM Edition. 

Always Unchanged and Unabridged. 

WITH HANDSOME LITHO&RAPHED PAPErT COVER. 


Persons who wish to purchase the following works in a complete 
and unabridged fotm are cautioned to order and see that they get 
The Seaside Library, Pocket Edition, as works published in 
other libraries are frequently abridged and incomplete. Every 
number of The Seaside Library is 

ALWAYS UNCHANGED AND UNADRIDGED. 

Newsdealers wishing' catalogues of The Seaside Library, Pocket Edi- 
tion, bearing their imprint, will be supplied bn sending their names 
addresses, and number required. 

The works in The Seaside Library, Pocket Edition, are printed from 
larger type and on better paper than any other series published. 

The following works are for sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to 
any address, postage free, on receipt of price, by the publisher. 

GEORGE MllNROt Miinro’s Publishing House* 

(P. O. Box 3751 .) 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, New York. 


LIST OF AUTHORS. 

[When oi'dering by mail please order by numbers.'\ 


Works by tbe author of “ Addie’s 
Husband.” 

388 Addie’s Husband ; or. Through 


Clouds to Sunshine 10 

504 My Poor Wife 10 

1046 Jessie 20 

Works by the author ol “A Fatal 
Dower.” 

246 A Fatal Dower 20 

372 Phyllis’ Probation 10 

461 His Wedded Wife 20 

829 The Actor’s Ward 20 

Works by the author of ‘‘ A Great 
Mistake,” 

244 A Great Mistake 20 

.588 Cherry 10 

1040 Clarissa’s Ordeal. 1st half... 20 
1040 Clarissa’s Ordeal. 2d half 2Q 

Works by the author of ‘‘A 
Woman’s Love-Story.” 

322 A Woman’s Love-Story 10 

677 Griselda 20 

Mrs. Alexander’s Works. 

5 The Admiral’s Ward 20 

17 The Wooing O’t 20 

62 The Executor 20 

189 Valerie’s Fate 10 

229 Maid, Wife, or Widow? 10 

2.36 Which Shall it Be? 20 

339 Mrs. Vereker's Courier Maid.. 10 

490 A Second Life 20 

561 At 15:. y 10 


794 Beaton’s Bargain 20 

797 Look Before You Leap. ..'.... 20 
805 The Freres. 1st half 20 

805 The Freres. 2d half 20 

806 Her Dearest Foe. 1st half 20 

^6 Her Dearest Foe. 2d half.... 20 

814 The Heritage of Langdale .... 20 

815 Ralph Wilton’s Weird 10 

900 By Woman's Wit 20 

997 Forging the Fetters, and The 

Australian Aunt 20 

10.54 Mona’s Choice 20 

1057 A Life Interest 20 

Alison’s Works. 

194 “ So Near, and Yet So Far!”. . 10 

278 For Life and Love 10 

481 The House That Jack Built. .. 10 

F. Anstey’s Works. 

59 Vice Versa 20 

225 The Giant’s Robe 20 

503 The Tinted Venus. A Farcical 

Romance 10 

819 A Fallen Idol 20 

R, M. Ballantyne’s Works. 

89 The Red Eric 10 

95 The Fire Brigade 10 

96 Erling the Bold 10 

772 Gascoyne, the Sandal-Wood 

Trader 20 

S. Baring-Gould’s Works, 

787 Court Royal 20 

878 Little Tu’penny 10 


4 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition. 


1012 A Nameless Sin 20 

1014 A Mad Love 20 

1031 Irene’s Vow 20 

1052 Signa’s Sweetheart 20 

1091 A Modern' Cinderella 10 

Charlotte Bronte’s Works. 

15 Jane Eyre 20 

57 Shirley 20 

944 The Professor 20 

Rhoda Broughton’s Works. 

86 Belinda.. 20 

101 Second Thoughts 20 

227 Nancy 20 

645 Mrs. Smith of Longmains 10 

758 “Good-bye, Sweetheart!” 20 

765 Not Wisely, But Too WeU 20 

767 Joan 20 

768 Red as a Rose is She 20 

769 Cometh Up as a Flower 20 

862 Betty’s Visions 10 

894 Doctor Cupid 20 

Mary E. Bryan’s Works. 

731 The Bayou Bride 20 

857 Kildee; or. The Sphinx of the 

Red House. 1st half 20 

857 Kildee; or. The Sphinx of the 
Red House. 2d half 20 

Robert Buchanan’s Works. 

145 “ Storm-Beaten God and The 

Man 20 

154 Annan Water 20 

181 The New Abelard 10 

398 Matt : A Tale of a Caravan ... 10 

646 The Master of the Mine 20 

892 That Winter Night; or, Love’s 

Victory 10 

1074 Stormy Waters 20 

Captain Fred Burnaby’s Works. 

376 A Ride to Khiva 20 

384 On Horseback Through Asia 
Minor 20 

E. Fairfax Byrrne’s Works. 

521 Entangled 20 

538 A Fair Country Maid 20 

Hall Caine’s Works. 

445 The Shadow of a Crime 20 

520 She’s All the World to Me 10 

Mrs. H. Lovett Cameron’s Works. 

595 A North Country Maid 20 

796 In a Grass Country 20 

891 VeraNevill; or. Poor Wisdom’s 

912 Pure Goid.” 1st half .V.V.'. ! 20 

912 Pure Gold. 2d half 20 

963 Worth Winning 20 

1025 Daisy’s Dilemma 20 

1070 A Life’s Mistake 20 


Rosa Nouchette Carey’s Works. 


215 Not Like Other Girls 20 

396 Robert Ord’s Atonement 20 

551 Barbara Healhcote’s Trial. 1st 

half 20 

551 Barbara Heathcote’s Trial. 2d 

half 20 

608 For Lilias. 1st half 20 

608 For Lilias. 2d half 20 

930 Uncle Max. 1st half 20 

930 Uncle Max. 2d half 20 

932 Queenie’s Whim. 1st half 20 

932 Queenie’s Whim. 2d half 20 


934 Wooed and Married. 1st half. 20 
934 Wooed and Married. 2d half. 20 
936 Nellie’s Memories. 1st half. .. 20 
936 Nellie’s Memories. 2d half... 20 


961 Wee Wifie 20 

1033 Esther; A Story for Girls 20 

1064 Only the Governess 20 

Lewis Carroll’s Works. 

462 Alice’s Adventures in Wonder- 
land. Illustrated by John 

Tenniel 20 

789 Through the Looking-Glass, 
and What Alice Found There. 


Illustrated by John Tenniel. . 20 


Wilkie Collins’s Works. 

52 The New Magdalen 10 

102 The Moonstone 20 

167 Heart and Science 20 

168 No Thoroughfare. By Dickens 

and Collins 10 

175 Love’s Random Shot, and 

Other Stories 10 

233 “ I Say No;” or, The Love-Let- 
ter Answered 20 

508 The Girl at the Gate 10 

591 The Queen of Hearts 20 

613 The Ghost’s Touch, and Percy 

and the Prophet 10 

623 My Lady’s Money 10 

701 Tlie Woman in White. 1st half 20 

701 The Woman in Wliite. 2d half 20 

702 Man and Wife. 1st half. 20 

702 Man and Wife. 2d half 20 

764 The Evil Genius 20 

896 The Guilty River 20 

946 The Dead Secret 20 

977 The Haunted Hotel 20 

1020 Armadale. 1st half. 20 

1029 Armadale. 2d half 20 

Mabel Collins’s Works. 

749 Lord Vanecourt’s Daughter.. . 20 
828 ThePrettiestWomaninWarsaw 20 

Hugh Couway’is Works. 

240 Called Back 10 

251 The Daughter of the Stars, and 
Other Tales 10 

301 Dark Days 10 

302 The Bhatchford Bequest 10 

502 Carriston’s Gift 10 

525 Paul Vargas, and Other Stories 10 
543 A Family Affair 20 


THE SEASIDE LTBEARY— Docket Edition. 


601 Slings and Arrows, and Other 

Stories 10 

711 A Cardinal Sin 20 

804 Living or Dead 20 

830 Bound by a Spell 20 

J* Fenimore Cooper’s Works. 

60 The Last of the Mohicans 20 

63 The Spy 20 

309 The Pathfinder 20 

310 The Prairie 20 

318 The Pioneers;* or, The Sources 

of the Susquehanna 20 

349 The Tw*o Admirals 20 

359 The Water-Witch 20 

361 The Red Rover 20 

373 Wing and Wing 20 

378 Homeward Bound; or, The 

Chase 20 

379 Home as Found. (Sequel to 

“ Homeward Bound”) 20 

380 Wyandotte; or, The Hutted 

Knoll 30 

385 The Headsman ; or, The Ab- 

have des Vignerons 20 

394 The Bravo 20 

367 Lionel Lincoln; or. The Leag- 
uer of Boston 20 

4(X) The Wept of Wish-Ton-Wish... 20 

413 Afioat and Ashore... 20 

414 Miles Wallingford. (Sequel to 

“ Afloat and Ashore ”) 20 

415 The Ways of the Hour 20 

416 Jack Tier: or. The Florida Reef 20 

419 The Chainbearer ; o»,The Little- 

page Manuscripts 20 

420 Satanstoe; or. The Littlepage 

Manuscripts 20 

421 The Redskins; or, Indian and 

Injin. Being the conclusion 
of the Littlepage Manuscripts 20 

422 Precaution 20 

423 The Sea Lions; or. The Lost 

Sealers 20 

424 Mercedes of Castile; or. The 

Voyage to Cathay 20 

425 The Oak-Openings ; or. The Bee- 

Hunter 20 

431 The Monikins 20 

1062 The Deerslayer; or. The First 

War-Path. 1st half 20 

1062 The Deerslayer; or, The Fii*st 
War-Path. 2d half 20 

Georgiana M. Craik’s Works. 

450 Godfrey Helstone 20 

606 Mrs. Hollyer 20 

B. M. Croker’s Works. 

207 Pretty Miss Neville 20 

260 Proper Pride 10 

412 Some One Else 20 

May Cromiiielin’s Works. 

452 In the West Countrie 20 

619 Joy ; or. The Light of Cold- 

Home Ford 20 

647 Goblin Gold 10 


Alphonse Daudet’s Works. 

534 Jack 20 

574 The Nabob: AStory of Parisian 
Life and Manners 20 

Charles Dickens’s Works. 

10 The Old Curiosity Shop 20 

22 David -Copperfield. Vol. I 

22 David Copperfield. Vol. II — 

24 Pickwick Papers. Vol. I 

24 Pickwick Papers. Vol. II 

37 Nicholas Nickleby. 1st half... 

37 Nicholas Nickleby. 2d half 

41 Oliver Twist 

77 A Tale of Two Cities 

84 Hard Times 

91 Barnaby Rudge. 1st half 

91 Barnabv Rudge. 2d half 

94 Little Dorrit. 1st half 

94 Little Dorrit. 2d half 

106 Bleak House. 1st half 

106 Bleak House. 2d half 

107 Dombey and Son. 1st half .... 

107 Dombey and Son. 2d half 

108 The Cricket on the Hearth, and 

Doctor Marigold 

131 Our Mutual Friend. 1st half.. 

131 Our Mutual Friend. 2d half... 

132 Master Humphrey’s Clock 

152 The Uncommercial Traveler. . . 

168 No Thoroughfare. By Dickens 

and Collins 

169 The Haunted Man 

437 Life and Adventures of Martin 

Chuzzlewit. 1st half 

437 Life and Adventures of Martin 
Chuzzlewit. 2d half 

439 Great Expectations 

440 Mrs. Lirriper’s Lodgings 

447 American Notes 

448 Pictures From Italy, and The 

Mudfog Papers. &c 

454 The Mystery of Edwin Drood.. 

456 Sketches by Boz. Illustrative 
of Every-day Life and Every- 
day People 

676 A Child’s History of England. . 

&$arah Doiidney’s Works. 

338 The Family Difficulty 

679 Where Two Ways Meet 

F. Du Boisgotoey’s Works. 

82 Sealed Lips 

104 The Coral Pin. 1st half 

104 The Coral Pin. 2d half 

264 Pi6douche, a French Detective. 
328 Babiole, the Pretty Milliner. 

First half 

328 Babiole, the Pretty Milliner. 

Second half 

453 The Lottery Ticket 

475 The Prima Donna’s Husband.. 

522 Zig-Zag, the Clown; or, The 


Steel Gauntlets..'. 20 

523 The Consequences of a Duel. A 

Parisian Romance 20 

648 The Angel of the Bells 20 


oo BB BB B^BB B So B'^BB^ )gBBBBBBBoBBBBBBBB 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition. 




697 The Pretty Jailer. 1st half... 20 
697 The Pretty Jail^-r. 2d half.. . . 20 
699 The Sculptor’s Daughter. Ist 


half 20 

699 The Sculptor's Daughter. 2d 

half 20 

78‘J The Closed Door. 1st half. ... 20 
782 The Closed Door. 2d half.... 20 
851 The Cry of Blood. 1st half... 20 

851 The Cry of Blood. 2d half 20 

918 The Red Band. 1st half 20 

918 The Red Baud. 2d half 20 

942 Cash on Delivery 20 

1076 I’he Mystery of an Omnibus.. 20 

1080 Bertha’s Secret. 1st half 20 

1080 Bertha’s Secret. 2d half 20 


1082 The Severed Hand. 1st half.. 20 
1082 The Severed Hand. 2d half.. 20 
1085 The Matapan Affair. 1st half 20 
1085 The Matapan Affair. 2d half 20 
1088 The Old Age of Monsieur Le- 

coq. 1st half 20 

1088 The Old Age of Monsieur Le- 
coq. 2d half 20 


1016 A Modern Circe 20 

1035 The Duchess 20 

1047 Marvel 5J0 

Alexander Dumas’s Woi'ks* 

55 The Three Guardsmen 20 

75 Twenty Years After 20 

259 The Bride of Monte-Cristo. A 
Sequel to ‘’The Oouut of 

Monte-Cristo ” 10 

262 The Count of Monte-Cristo. 

Part I 30 

262 The Count of Monte-Cristo. 

Part II 30 

717 Beau Tancrede; or. The Mar- 
riage Verdict 20 

1053 Masaniello; or, The Fisherman''^ 
of Naples 20 

George Ebers’s Works. 

474 Serapis. An Historical Novel 20 
9a3 Uarda 20 


10.56 The Bride of the Nile. 1st half 20 
1056 The Bride of the Nile. 2d half 20 


“The Duchess’s*' Worlis. 


2 Molly Bawn 20 

6 Portia 20 

14 Airy Fairy Lilian 10 

16 Phyllis 20 

25 Mrs. Geoffrey. (Large type 

edition) 20 

950 Mrs. Geoffrey 10 

29 Beauty’s Daughters 10 

30 Faith and Unfaith 20 

118 Loys, Lord Berresford, and 

Eric Dering 10 

119 M«nica,)and A Rose Distill’d.. 10 

123 Sweet is True Love 10 

129 Rossmoyne 10 

134 The Witching Hour, and Other 

Stories 10 

136 “That Last Rehearsal,” and 

Other Stories 10 

166 Moonshine and Marguerites. .. 10 
171 Fortune’s Wheel, and Other 

Stories 10 

284 Doris 10 

312 A Week’s Amusement; or, A 

Week in Killarney 10 

342 The Baby, and One New Year’s 

Eve 10 

390 Mildred Trevanion 10 

404 In. Durance Vile, and Other 

Stories 10 

486 Dick’s Sweetheart 20 

494 A Maiden All Forlorn, and Bar- 
bara 10 

517 A Passive Crime, and Other 

Stories 10 

541 “ As It Fell Upon a Day.” 10 

733 Lady Branksmere 20 

771 A Mental Struggle 20 

785 The Haunted Chamber 10 

862 Ugly Barrington 10 

875 Lady Valworth’s Diamonds. . . 20 
1009 In an Evil Hour, and Other 
Stories 20 


Mnrin. Edgeworth’s Works. 

708 Ormond 20 

788 The Absentee. An Irish Storv. 20 

Mrs. Annie Edwards’s Works. 

644 A Girton Girl 20 

834 A Ballroom Repentance 20 

835 Vivian the Beauty 20 

836 A Point of Honor 20 

837 A Vagabond Heroine 10 

838 Ought We to Visit Her? 20 

839 Leah; A W'oman of Fashion... 20 

841 Jet; Her Face or Her Fortune? 10 

842 A Blue-Stocking 10 

843 Archie Lovell 20 

844 Susan Fielding ^ 

845 Philip Earnscliffe; or. The Mor- 

als of May Fair 20 

846 Steven Lawrence. 1st half 20 

846 Steven Lawrence. 2d’ half 20 

850 A Playwright’s Daughter 10 

George Eliot’s Works, 

3 The Mill on the Floss 20 

31 Middlemarch. 1st half ^ 

31 Middlemarch. 2d half 20 

34 Daniel Deronda. 1st half ^ 

34 Daniel Deronda. 2d half ^ 

36 Adam Bede. 1st half 20 

36 Adam Bede. 2d half ^ 

42 Romola. 20 

693 Felix Holt, the Radical ^ 

707 Silas Marner; The Weaver of 

Raveloe 10 

728 Janet’s Repentance 10 

762 Impressions of Theophrastus 
Such 10 

B. Jj, Farjeon’s Works. 

179 Little Make-Believe 10 

573 Love's Harvest 20 

607 Seif-Doomed 10 


THE SEASIDE LTBKAHY — Pocket Edition. 


7 


616 The Sacred Nugget 

6n7 Christmas Angel 

907 The Bright Star of Life 

909 The Nine of Hearts 

G. Manville Fenn’s Works, 

193 The Rosery Folk 

558 Poverty Corner 

587 The Parson o’ Dumford 

609 The Dark House 

Octave Feuillet’s Works, 

66 The Romance of a Poor Young 

Man 

386 Led Astray ; or, “ La Petite 
Comtesse ” 

Airs. Forrester’s Works. 

80 June 

280 Omnia Vanitas. A Tale of So- 
ciety 

484 Although He Was a Lord, and 

Other Tales 

715 I Have Lived and Loved 

721 Dolores 

724 My Lord and My Lady 

726 My Hero 

727 Fair Women 

729 Mignon 

732 From Olympus to Hades 

734 Viva 

736 Roy and Viola 

740 Rhona 

744 Diana Carew; or, For a Wom- 
an’s Sake 

883 Once Again 

Jessie Fothergill’s Works. 

314 Peril 

572 Healey 

935 Borderland 

R. E. Francillon’s Works. 

135 A Great Heiress: A Fortune 

in Seven Checks 

319 Face to Face : A Fact in Seven 

Fables 

360 Ropes of Sand 

656 The Golden Flood. By R. E. 

Francillon and Wm. Senior.. 
911 Golden Bells 

Emile Gaboriau’s Works. 

7 File No. 113 

12 Other People’s Money.... 

20 Within an Inch of His Life. . . 

26 Monsieur Lecoq. Vol I 

26 Monsieur Lecoq. Vol. II 

33 The Clique of Gold 

38 The Widow Lerouge 

43 The Mystery of Orcival 

144 Promises of Marriage 

979 The Count’s Secret. Part I. . . 
979 The Count’s Secret. Part II. . 

1002 Marriage at a Venture 

1015 A Thousand Francs Reward.. 
1045 The 13th Hussars 


1078 The Slaves of Paris. 1st half 20 
1078 The Slaves of Paris. 2(t half. 20 
1083 The Little Old Man of the Bat- 
ignolles 10 

Charles Gibbon’s Works, 

64 A Maiden Fair 10 

317 By Mead and Stream 20 

James Grant’s Works. 

566 The Royal Highlanders : or, 

The Black Watch in Egypt... 20 
781 The Secret Dispatch 10 

Miss Grant’s Works. 

222 The Sun-Maid , 20 

555 Cara Roma 20 

Arthur GriOiths's Works. 

614 No. 99 10 

680 Fast and Loose 20 

H. Rider Haggard’s Works. 
43'Z The Witch’s Head . 20 

753 King Solomon’s Mines 20 

910 She: A History of Adventure. 20 

941 Jess 20 

959 Dawn 20 

989 Allan Quatermam 20 

1049 A Tale of Three Lions, and On 
Going Back 20 

Thomas Hardy’s Works. 

139 The Romantic Adventures of 

a Milkmaid 10 

530 A Pair of Blue Eyes 20 

690 Far From the Madding Crowd. 20 

791 The 3Iayor of Casterbridge 20 

945 The Trumpet-Major 20 

957 The Woodlanders 20 

John B. Harwood’s Works. 

143 One False, Both Fair 20 

358 Within the Clasp 20 

Mary Cecil Hay’s Works. 

65 Back to the Old Home 10 

72 Old Myddelton's Money 20 

196 Hidden Perils 20 

197 For Her Dear Sake 20 

224 The Arundel Motto 20 

The Squire’s Legacy 20 

290 Nora’s Love Test. 20 

408 Lester’s Secret 20 

678' Dorothy’s Venture 20 

716 Victor and Vanquished 20 

849 A Wicked Girl..'. 20 

987 Brenda Yorke 20 

1026 A Dark Inheritance 20 

Mrs. Cashel-Hoey’s Works. 

313 The Lover s Creed 20 

802 A Stern Chase 20 

Tighe Hopkins’s Works. 

509 Nell Haffenden 20 

714 ’TwLjct Love and Duty 20 


20 

10 

20 

20 

10 

20 

20 

10 

10 

10 

20 

10 

10 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

2C 

10 

10 

20 

10 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

10 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 


8 


THE SEASIDE LH3HARY— Pocket Edition, 


Works by the Author of “Judith 
Wynne.” 

832 Judith Wynne 20 

506 Lady Lovelace 20 

William H. G. Kingston’s Works. 

117 A Tale of the Shore and Ocean, 20 

133 Peter the Whaler 10 

761 Will Weatherhelm 20 

763 The Midshipman, Marmaduke 
Merry 20 

Vernon Lee’s Works. 

399 Miss Brown 20 

859 Ottilie: An Eighteenth Century 
Idyl. By Vernon Lee. The 
Prince of the 100 Soups. Edit- 
ed by Vernon Lee 20 

Charles Lever’s Works. 

191 Harry Lorrequer 20 

212 Charles O’Malley, the Irish Dra- 
goon. 1st half 20 

212 Charles O’Malley, the Irish Dra- 
goon. 2d half 20 

243 Tom Burke of “Ours.” 1st half 20 
243 Tom Burke of “ Ours.” 2d half 20 

Mary Linskill’s Works. 

473 A Lost Son 20 

620 Between the Heather and the 
Northern Sea 20 

Mrs. E. Lynn Linton’s Works. 

122 lone Stewart • 20 

817 Stabbed in the Dark 10 

886 Paston Carew, Millionaire and 
Miser 20 

Samuel Lover’s Works. 

663 Handy Andy 20 

664 Rory O’More 20 

Sir E. Bulwer Lytton’s Works. 

40 The Last Days of Pompeii 20 

83 A Strange Story 20 

90 Ernest Maltravers ^ 

130 The Last of the Barons. 1st half 20 
130 The Last of the Barons, 2d half 20 

162 Eugene Aram 20 

164 Leila; or, The Siege of Grenada 10 
650 Alice: or. The Mysteries. (A Se- 
quel to “Ernest Maltravers”) 20 
720 Paul Clifford 20 

George Macdonald’s Works. 

282 Donal Grant 20 

325 The Portent 10 

326 Phantastes. A Faerie Romance 

for Men and Women 10 

722 What’s Mine’s Mine 20 

1041 Home Again 20 

Katharine S. Macquoid’s Works* 

479 Louisa 20 

914 Joau Wentworth • . ^ 


E. Marlitt’s Works- 

652 The Lady with the Rubies. ... 20 

8.58 Old Ma’m’selle’s Secret 20 

972 Gold Elsie 20 

999 The Second Wife ^ 

Florence Marryat’s Works. 

159 Captain Norton’s Diary, and 

A Moment of Madness 10 

183 Old Contrairy, and Other 

Stories 10 

208 The Ghost of Charlotte Cray, 

and Other Stories 10 

276 Under the Lilies and Roses... 10 

444 The Heart of Jane Warner 20 

449 Peeress and Player 20 

689 The Heir Presumptive 20 

825 The Master Passion ^ 

860 Her Lord and Master 20 

861 My Sister the Actress. 20 

863 “ My Own Child.” 90 

864 “ No Intentions.” 20 

865 Written in Fire 

866 Miss Harrington’s Husband; 

or. Spiders of Society 20 

867 The Girls of Feversham ^ 

868 Petronel 20 

869 The Poison of Asps 10 

870 Out of His Reckoning 10 

872 With Cupid’s Eyes 20 

878 A Harvest of Wild Oats 20 

877 Facing the Footlights ^ 

893 Love’s Conflict. 1st half 20 

893 Love’s Conflict. 2d half 20 

895 A Star and a Heart 10 

897 Ange 20 

899 A Little Stepson 10 

901 A Lucky Disappointment 10 

903 Phyllida 20 

905 The Fair-Haired Alda 20 

939 Why Not? 90 

993 Fighting the Air 20 

998 Open Sesame 20 

1004 Mad Dumaresq 20 

1013 The Confessions of Gerald Est- 

court 20 

1022 Driven to Bay 20 

Captain Marryat’s Works. 

88 The Privateersman 20 

272 The Little Savage 10 

991 Mr. Midshipman Easy 20 

Helen B. Matbers’s Works. 

13 Eyre’s Acquittal 1C 

221 Cornin’ Thro’ the Rye 20 

4:38 Found Out 10 

535 Murder or Manslaughter? 10 

673 Story of a Sin 20 

713 “ Cherry Ripe ” 20 

795 Sam’s Sweetheart 20 

798 The Fashion of this 'World 10 

799 My Lady Green Sleeves 20 

Justin McCarthy’s Works. 

121 Maid of Athene 20 

602 Camiola 20 

685 England Under Gladstone. 
1880—1885 20 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY — Pocket Edition. 


9 


747 Our Sensation Novel. Edited 
by Justin H. McCarthy, M.P. . 10 
779 Doom ! An Atlantic Episode. . . 10 

Mrs, Alex. McVeiffh Miller’s 
Works. 

267 Laurel Vane; or, The Girls’ 

Conspiracy 20 

268 Lady Gay’s Pride; or, The 

Miser’s Treasure 20 

269 Lancaster’s Choice 20 

316 Sworn to Silence; or, Aline 

Rodney’s Secret 20 


Mrs. Oliphaiit’s Works. 


45 A Little Pilgrim 10 

177 Salem Chapel 20 

205 The Minister’s Wife 30 

321 The Prodigals, and Their In- 
heritance 10 


337 Memoirs and Resolutions of 
Adam Graeme of Mossgray, 
including some Chronicles of 

the Borough of Fendie 

345 Madam 

351 The House on the Moor 

357 John 


Jean Middleinas’s Works. 


155 Lady Muriel’s Secret 20 

539 Silvermead 20 

Alan Mnir’s Works. 

172 “Golden Girls’’ 20 

346 Tumbledown Farm 10 

Miss Mulock’s Works. 

11 John Halifax, Gentleman. 1st 

half 20 

11 John Halifax, Gentleman. 2d 

half 20 

245 Miss Tommy, and In a House- 

Boat 10 

808 KingArthTir. Not a Love Story 20 

1018 Two Marriages 20 

1038 Mistress and Maid 20 

1053 Young Mrs. Jardine 20 


David Christie Murray’s Works. 


58 By the Gate of the Sea 10 

195 “ The Way of the World ” 20 

320 A Bit of Human Nature 10 

661 Rainbow Gold 20 

674 First Person Singular 20 

691 Valentine Strange 20 

695 Hearts: Queen, Knave, and 

Deuce 20 

698 A Life s Atonement 20 

737 Aunt Rachel 10 

826 Cynic Fortune 20 

898 Bulldog and Butterfly, and Julia 
and Her Romeo 20 


Works by the author of “My 
Ducats and My Daughter.” 


376 The Crime of Christmas Day. 10 
596 My Ducats and My Daughter... 20 


W. E. Norris’s Works. 

184 Thirlby Hall 20 

277 A Man of His Word 10 

355 That Terrible Man 10 

500 Adrian Vidal 20 

824 Her Own Doing 10 

848 My Friend Jim 20 

871 A Bachelor’s Blunder 20 

1019 Major and Minor. 1st half 20 

1019 Major and Minor. 2d half 20 

1084 Chris 20 

Laurence Oliphaut's Works. 

47 Altiora Peto 20 

637 Piccadilly 10 


370 Lucy Crof ton 

371 Margaret Maitland 

377 Magdalen Hepburn : A Story of 

the Scottish Reformation 

402 Lilliesleaf ; or. Passages in the 
Life of Mrs. Margaret Mait- 
land of Sunnyside 

410 Old Lady Mary 

527 The Days of My Life 

528 At His Gates 

568 The Perpetual Curate 

569 Harry Muir 

603 Agnes. 1st half 

603 Agnes. 2d half 

604 Innocent. 1st half 

604 Innocent. 2d half 

605 Ombra 

645 Oliver’s Bride 

655 The Open Door,and The Portrait 

687 A Country Gentleman 

703 A House Divided Against Itself 
710 The Greatest Heiress in England 

827 Effie Ogilvie 

880 The Son of His Father 

902 A Poor Gentleman 

“ Ouida’s ” Works. 

4 Under Two Flags 

9 Wanda, Countess von Szalras. 

116 Moths 

128 Afternoon, and Other Sketches 

226 Friendship 

228 Princess Napraxine 

238 Pascarel 

239 Signa 

433 A Rainy June 

639 Othmar. 1st half 

639 Othmar. 2d half 

071 Don Gesualdo 

672 In Maremma. 1st half 

672 In Maremma. 2d half 

874 A House Party 

974 Strathmore; or. Wrought by 

His Own Hand. 1st half 

974 Sti-athmore; or. Wrought by 

His Own Hand. > 2d half 

981 Granville de Vigne; or. Held in 

Bondage. 1st half 

981 Granville de Vigne; or. Held in 

Bondage. 2d half 

996 Idalia. 1st half 

996 Idalia. 2d half 

1000 Puck. 1st half 

1000 Puck. 2d half 

1003 Chandos. 1st half 




10 TIIE SEASIDE LIBR AH Y— Pocket Edition. 


1003 Chandos. 2d half 20 

1017 Tricotrin. 1st half 20 

1017 ^Tricotrin. 2d half 20 

James Payn’s Works. 

48 Thicker Than Water 20 

186 The Canon’s W’ard 20 

343 The Talk of the Town 20 

577 In Peril and Privation 10 

589 The Luck of the Darrells 20 

823 The Heir of the Ages 20 

Miss Jane Porter’s Works. 

660 The Scottish Cliiefs. 1st half.. 20 
660 The Scottish Chiefs. 2d half.. 20 
696 Thaddeus of Warsaw 20 

Cecil Power’s Works. 

336 Philistia 20 

611 Babylon 20 

Mrs. Campbell Praed’s Works. 

428 Zero: A Story of Monte-Carlo. 10 

477 Affinities 10 

811 The Head Station 20 

Eleanor C. Price’s Works. 

173 The Foreigners 20 

331 Gerald 20 

Charles Reade’s Works. 

46 Very Hard Cash 20 

98 A Woman-Hater 20 

206 The Picture, and Jack of All 

Trades 10 

210 Readiana: Comments on Cur- 
rent Events 10 

213 A Terrible Temptation 20 

214 Put Yourself in His Place 20 

216 Foul Play 20 

231 Griffith Gaunt; or, Jealousy... 20 

232 Love and Money ; or, A Perilous 

Secret 10 

235 “It is Never Too Late to 
Mend.” A Matter-of-Fact Ro- 
mance.... 20 

Mrs. J. H. Riddell’s Works. 

71 A Struggle for Fame 20 

593 Berna Boyle 20 

1007 Miss Gascoigne 20 

1077 The Nun’s Curse 20 

“Rita’s” Works, 

252 A Sinless Secret 10 

446 Dame Durden 20 

598 “Corinna.” A Study 10 

617 Like Dian’s Kiss 20 

F. W. Robinson’s Works. 

157 Milly’sHero 20 

217 The Man She Cared For 20 

261 A Fair Maid 20 

455 Lazarus in London 20 

590 The Courting of Mary Smith.. 20 
1005 99 Dark Street 20 


W. Clark Russell’s Works. 

85 A Sea Queen 20 

109 Little Loo 20 

180 Round the Galley Fire 10 

209 John Holdsworth, Chief Mate. 10 

223 A Sailor’s Sweetheart 20 

592 A Strange Voyage 20 

682 In the Middle Watch. Sea 

Stories 20 

743 Jack’s Courtship. 1st half... 20 

743 Jack’s Courtship. 2d half 20 

884 A Voyage to the Cape 20 

916 The Golden Hope 20 

1044 The Frozen Pirate 20 

1048 The Wreck of the “Grosvenor” 20 

Adeline Sergeant’s Works. 

257 Beyond Recall 10 

812 No Saint 20 

Sir Walter Scott’s Works. 

28 Ivanhoe 20 

201 The Monastery 20 

202 The Abbot. (Sequel to “The 

Monastery ”) 20 

353 The Black Dwarf, and A Le- 
gend of Montrose 20 

362 The Bride of Lammermoor. . . 20 

363 The Surgeon’s Daughter 10 

364 Castle Dangerous 10 

391 The Heart of Mid-Lothian 20 

392 Peveril of the Peak 20 

393 The Pirate 20 

401 Waverley 20 

417 The Fair Maid of Perth ; or, St. 

Valentine’s Day 20 

418 St. Ronan’s Well ^ 

463 Redgauntlet. A Tale of the 

Eighteenth Century 20 

507 Chronicles of the Canongate, 

and Other Stories 10 

1060 The Lady of the Lake 20 

1063 Kenilworth. 1st half 20 

1063 Kenilworth. 2d half ^ 

William Sime’s Works. 

429 Boulderstone ; or. New Men and 

Old Populations 10 

580 The Red Route 20 

597 Haco the Dreamer 10 

649 Cradle and Spade 20 

Hawley Smart’s Works. 

348 From Post to Finish. A Racing 

Romance 20 

367 Tie and Trick 20 

550 Struck Down. 10 

847 Bad to Beat 10 

925 The Outsider 20 

Frank E. Smedley’s Works. 
333 Frank Fairlegh; or. Scenes 
from the Life of a Private 

Pupil.... 20 

562 Lewis Arundel; or. The Rail- 
road of Life 20 

T. W, Speight’s Works. 

150 For Himself Alone 10 

653 A Barren Title 10 


THE SEASroE LIBRARY — Pocket Edition. 


11 


Robert Louis Stevenson’s Works. 


686 Strantje Case of Dr. Jekylland 

Mr. Hyde 10 

704 Prince Otto 10 

832 Kidnapped 20 

855 The Dynamiter ^ 

856 New Arabian Nights ^ 

888 Treasure Island 10 

889 An Inland Voj'age 10 

940 The Merry Men, and Other 

Tales and Fables 20 

1051 The Misadventures of John 
Nicholson 10 

Julian Sturgis’s Works. 

405 My Friends and I. Edited by 

Julian Sturgis 10 

694 John Maidment 20 


Eugene Sue’s Works. 

270 The Wandering Jew. Parti... 30 

270 The Wandering Jew. Part II. . 30 

271 The Mysteries of Paris. Part I. 30 
271 The Mysteries of Paris. Part 11. 30 

George Temple’s Works. 


599 Lancelot Ward, M.P 10 

642 Britta 10 

William M. Thackeray’s Works. 

27 Vanity Fair. 1st half 20 

27 Vanity Fair. 2d half 20 

165 The History of Henry Esmond. 20 

464 The Newcomes. Parti 20 

464 The Newcomes. Part II 20 

670 The Rose and the Ring. Illus- 
trated •- 10 

Works by the Author of “The 
Two niiss Flemings.” 

637 VTiat’s His Offence? 20 

780 Rare Pale Margaret .‘... 20 

784 The Two Miss Flemings 20 

831 Pomegranate Seed 20 

Annie Thomas’s Works. 

141 She Loved Him! 10 

142 Jenifer 20 

565 No Medium 10 

Bertha Thomas’s Works. 

389 Ichabod. A Portrait 10 

960 Elizabeth’s Fortune 20 

Count liyof Tolstoi’s Works. 

1066 My Husband and 1 10 

1069 Polikouchka 10 

1071 The Death of Ivan Iliitch 10 

1073 Two Generations 10 

1090 The Cossacks 20 

Anthony Trollope’s Works. 

32 The Land Leaguers 20 

93 Anthony Trollope’s Autobiog- 
raphy 20 

147 Rachel Ray 20 

200 An Old Man’s Love 10 

531 The Prime IVIinister. 1st half. . 20 

631 The Prime Minister. 2d half... 20 


621 The Warden 10 

622 Harry Heathcote of Ganeoil.. 10 
667 The Golden Lion of Granpere. 20 

700 Ralpli the Heir. 1st half 20 

700 Ralph the Heir. 2d half 20 

775 The Three Clerks 20 

Margaret Veley’s W’^orks. 

298 Mitchelhurst Place 10 

586 “ For Percival ” 20 

Jules Verne’s Works. 

87 Dick Sand; or, A Captain at 

Fifteen 20 

100 20.000 Leagues Under the Seas ^ 
368 The Southern Star ; or,the Dia- 
mond Land 20 

395 The Archipelago on Fire 10 

578 Mathias Sandorf. Illustrated. 

Part 1 10 

578 Mathias Sandorf. Illustrated. 

Part II 10 

578 Mathias Sandorf. Illustrated. 

Part III 10 

659 The Waif of the “ Cynthia ” . . 20 
751 Great Voyages and Great Navi- 
gators. 1st half 20 

751 Great Voyages apd Great Navi- 
gators. 2d half 20 

833 Ticket No. “ 9672.” 1st half. . . 10 
833 Ticket No. “ 9672.” 2d half. . . 10 
976 Robur the Conqueror: or. A 
Trip Round the World in a 

Flying Machine 20 

1011 Texar’s Vengeance: or, North 

Versus South. Parti 20 

1011 Texar’s Vengeance; or, North 

Versus South. Part II 20 

1020 Michael Strogoff; or, The 

Courier of the Czar 20 

1050 The Tour of the World in 80 
Days 20 

L. B. Walford’s Works. 

241 Thfe Baby’s Grandmother 10 

256 Mr. Smith : A Part of His Life 20 

258 Cousins 20 

658 The History of a Week lO 

F. Warden’s Works. 

192 At the World’s Mercy 10 

248 The House on the Marsh 10 

286 Deldee; or. The Iron Hand... 20 

482 A Vagrant Wife ^ 

556 A Prince of Darkness 20 

820 Doris’s Fortune 20 

1037 Scheherazade : A London 

Night’s Entertainment 20 

1087 A W^onian's Face; or, A Lake- 
land Mystery 20 

William AVare’s Works. 

709 Zenobia; or. The Fall of Pal- 
myra. 1st half 20 

709 Zenobia : or, Tiie Fall of Pal- 
myra. 2d half 20 

760 Aurelian ; or, Rome in the Third 
Century 20 


12 


TIIE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket EDrno]?^. 


Works by the Aiitbor of “Wedded 
Hands.” 

628 Wedded Hands 20 

968 Blossom and Fruit ; or, Mad- 
ajne’s Ward 20 

E. Werner’s Works. 

327 Raymond’s Atonement 20 

540 At a Hiprh Price 20 

1067 Saint Michael. 1st half 20 

1067 Saint Michael. 2d half 20 

1089 Home Sounds 20 

G. Why te-3I el vine’s Works. 

400 Roy’s Wife 20 

451 Market Harborough, and Inside 

the Bar 20 

John Strange Winter’s Works. 
492 Booties’ Baby ; or, Mignon. Il- 
lustrated 10 

600 Houp-La. Illustrated 10 

^8 In Quarters with the 25th (The 

Black Horse) Dragoons 10 

688 A Man of Honor. Illustrated. 10 
746 Cavalry Life: or. Sketches and 

Stories in Barracks and Out, 20 
813 Army Society. Life in a Gar- 


rison Town 10 

818 Pluck 10 

876 Mignon’s Secret 10 

966 A Siege Baby and Childhood’s 

Memories 20 

971 Garrison Gossip: Gathered in 

Blankhampton 20 

1032 Mignon’s Husband 20 

1039 Driver Dallas 10 

1079 Beautiful Jim: of the Blank- 
shire Regiment 20 

Mrs. Henry Wood’s Works. 

8 East Lynne. 1st half 20 

8 East Lynne. 2d half 20 

255 The Mystery ' 20 

277 The Surgeon’s Daughters 10 

^8 The Unholy Wish 10 

513 Helen Whitney’s Wedding, and 

Other Tales 10 

514 The Mystery of Jessy Page, 

and Other Tales 10 

610 The Story of Dorothy Grape, 

and Other Tales 10 

1001 Lady Adelaide’s Oath; or. The 

Castle's Heir 20 

1021 The Heir to Ashley, and The 

Red-Court Farm 20 

1027 A Life’s Secret 20 

1042 Lady Grace 20 

Charlotte M. Yonge’s Works. 

247 The Armourer's Prentices 10 

275 The Three Brides 10 

535 Henrietta’s Wish; or, Domi- 
neering 10 

563 The Two Sides of the Shield... 20 

640 Nuttie’s Father 20 

665 The Dove in the Eagle’s Nest. 20 


666 My Young Alcides: A Faded 

Photograph 20 

739 The Caged Lion ■ 20 

742 Love and Life 20 

783 Chantry House 20 

790 The Chaplet of Pearls ; or. The 
White and Black Ribaumont. 

1st half 90 

790 The Chaplet of Pearls ; or. The 
White and Black Ribaumont, 

2d half 20 

8(X) Hopes and Fears; or. Scenes 
from the Life of a Spinster. 

1st half 20 

800 Hopes and Fears; or. Scenes 
from the Life of a Spinster. 

2d half 20 

887 A Modern Telemachus 20 

1024 Under the Storm; or. Stead- 
fast’s Charge 20 


Miscellaneous. 


53 The Story of 'Ida. Francesca.. 10 
61 Charlotte Temple. Mrs. Row- 

son 10 

99 Barbara’s History. Amelia B. 

Edwards 20 

103 Rose Fleming. Dora Russell.. 10 
105 A Noble Wife. John Saunders 20 

111 The Little School-master Mark. 

J. H. Shorthouse 10 

112 The Waters of Marah, John 

Hill 20 

113 Mrs. Carr’s Companion. M. G. 

Wightwick 10 

114 Some of Our Girls. Mrs. C. J. 

Eiloart 20 

115 Diamond Cut Diamond. T. 

Adolphus Trollope 10 

120 Tom Brown’s School Days at 

Rugby. Thomas Hughes 20 

127 Adrian Bright. Mrs. Caddy 20 

149 The Captain’s Daughter. From 

the Russian of Pushkin 10 

151 The Ducie Diamonds. C. Blath- 

erwick 10 

156 “For a Dream’s Sake.” Mrs. 

Herbert Martin 20 

158 The Starling. Norman Mac- 
leod, D.D 10 

160 Her Gentle Deeds. Sarah Tytler 10 

161 The Lady of Lyons. Founded 

on the Play of that title by 

Lord Lytton 10 

163 Winifred Power. Joyce Dar- 
rell - 20 

170 Great Treason, A. By Mary 

Hoppus, 1st half 20 

170 Great Treason, A. By Mary 

Hoppus. 2d half 20 

174 Under a Ban. Mrs. Lodge 20 

176 An April Day. Philippa Prit- 

tie Jephson 10 

178 More Leaves from the Journal 
of a Life in the Highlands. 

Queen Victoria 10 

182 The Millionaire 20 

185 Dita. Lady Margaret Majendie 10 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY — Pocket Edition. 


13 


187 The) Midnight Sun. Fredrika 


Bremer 10 

198 A Husband’s Story 10 

203 John Bull and His Island. Max 

O'Rell 10 


218 Agnes Sorel. G. P. R. James.. 20 

219 Lady Clare : or, The Master of 

the Forges. Georges Ohnet 10 
242 The Two Orphans. D’Ennery. 10 
2o3 The Amazon. Carl Vosmaer . . 10 
266 The Water-Babies. Rev. Chas^. 


Kingsley 10 

274 Alice, Grand Duchess of Hesse, 
Princess of Great Britain and 
Ireland. Biographical Sketch 

and Letters 10 

279 Little Goldie : A Story of Wom- 
an’s Love. Mrs. Sumner Hay- 
den 20 

28.5 The Gambler’s Wife 20 

289 John Bull’s Neighbor in Her 
True Light. A “ Brutal Sax- 
on ” 10 

311 Two Years Before the Mast. R. 

H. Dana, Jr 20 

329 The Polish Jew. (Translated 

from the French by Caroline 
A. Merighi.) Erckmann-Chat- 
rian 10 

330 May Blossom : or. Between Two 

Loves. Margaret Lee 20 

334 A Marriage of Convenience. 

Harriett Jay 10 

335 The White Witch 20 

340 Under Which King? Compton 

Reade 20 

341 Madolin Rivers ; or. The Little 

Beauty of Red Oak Seminary. 

Laura Jean Libbey 20 

347 As Avon Flows. Henry Scott 

Vince 20 

350 Diana of the Crossways. George 

Meredith 10 

352 At Any Cost, Edward Garrett. 10 
354 The Lottery of Life. A Story 
of New York Twenty Years 
Ago. John Brougham 20 


355 The Princess Dagomar of Po- 

land. Heinrich Felbermann. 10 

356 A Good Hater. Frederick Boyle 20 
365 George Christy ; or. The Fort- 


unes of a Minstrel. Tony 

Pastor 20 

366 The Mysterious Hunter; or. 
The Man of Death. Capt. L. 

C. Carleton 20 

369 Miss Bretherton. Mrs. Hum- 
phry Ward 10 

374 The Dead Plan’s Secret. Dr, 

Jupiter Paeon 20 

381 The Red Cardinal, Frances 

Elliot 10 

382 Three Sisters. Elsa D’Esterre- 

Keeling 10 

383 Introduced to Society. Hamil- 

ton Aid6 10 

387 The Secret of the Cliffs. Char- 
lotte French 20 


An English Squire, C. R. Cole- 
ridge 20 

The Merchant’s Clerk, Samuel 

Warren 10 

Tylney Hall. Thomas Hood. . . 20 
Venus’s Doves. Ida Ashworth 

Taylor 20 

A Bitter Reckoning, Author 
of ’‘By Crooked Paths ” — 10 
Klytia : A Story of Heidelberg 

Castle. George Taylor 20 

Stella. Fanny Lewald 20 

A Sea Change. Flora L. Shaw. 20 
Ranthorpe. George Henry 

Lewes 20 

The Bachelor of the Albany... 10 
The Russians at the Gates of 

Herat. Charles Marvin 10 

A Week of Passion; or. The 
Dilemma of Mr. George Bar- 
ton the Younger, Edward 

Jenkins 20 

The Fortunes, Good and Bad, 
of a Sewing-Girl. Charlotte 

M. Stanley 10 

Betwixt My Love and Me. By 
author of “ A Golden Bar ”. . . 10 
Tinted Vapours. J. Maclaren 

Cobban 10 

Society in London. A Foreign 

Resident 10 

Colonel Enderby’s Wife. Lucas 

Malet 20 

Mr. Butler’s Ward. F. Mabel 

Robinson 20 

Curly : An Actor’s Story. John 

Coleman 10 

The Society of London. Count 

Paul Vasili 10 

A Mad Love. Author of “ Lover 

and Lord” 10 

The Waters of Hercules 20 

The Hidden Sin 20 

James Gordon’s Wife 20 

Madame De Presnel. E. Fran- 
ces Poynter 20 

Arden Court. Barbara Graham 20 

Hazel Kirke. Marie Walsh 20 

Dissolving Views. Mrs. Andrew 
Lang 10 


Vida’s Story. By the author of 
“ Guilty Without Crime . . 10 
Mrs. Keith’s Crime. A Novel.. 10 
Paul Crew’s Story. Alice Co- 


rny ns Carr 10 

The Finger of Fate. Captain 

Mayne Reid 20 

The Betrothed. (I Promessi 
Sposi.) Allessandro Manzoni 20 
Lucia, Hugh and Another. Mrs. 

J. H. Needed 20 

Victory Deane. Cecil Griffith.. 20 

Mixed Motives 10 

Lancelot Ward, M.P. George 

Temple 10 

My Wife’s Niece. By the author 

of ” Dr. Edith Romney ” 20 

Primus in Indis. M. J. Colqu- 
houn 10 


403 

406 

407 

426 

430 

435 

436 

441 

442 

443 

457 

458 

468 

483 

485 

491 

493 

501 

504 

505 

510 

512 

518 

519 

526 

532 

533 

536 

545 

546 

571 

575 

581 

582 

583 

584 

599 

612 

624 


14 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition. 


634 The Unforeseen. Alice O’Han- 
lon 

641 The Ilabbi’s Spell. Stuart C. 

Cumberland 

643 The Sketch-Book of Geoffrey 
Crayon, Gent. Washington 

Irving 

654 “Us.” An Old-fashioned-Story. 

Mrs. Moles worth 

662 The Mystery of Allan Grale. 
Isabella Fyvie Mayo 

668 Half-Way. An Anglo-French 

Romance 

669 The Philosophy of Whist. 

William Pole 

675 Mrs. Dymond. Miss Thackeray 
681 A Singer’s Story. May Laflfan. 

683 The Bachelor Vicar of New- 

forth. Mrs. J. Harcourt-Roe. 

684 Last Days at Apswich 

692 The Mikado, and Other Comic 

Operas. Written by W. S. 
Gilbert. Composed by Arthur 
Sullivan 

705 The Woman I Loved, and the 

Woman Who Loved Me. Isa 
Blagden 

706 A Crimson Stain. Annie Brad- 

shaw 

712 For Maimie's Sake. Grant 
Allen 

718 Unfairly Won. Mrs. Power 

O’Donoghue 

719 Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage. 

Lord Byron 

723 Mauleverer’s Millions. T. We- 

mvss Reid 

725 My Ten Years’ Imprisonment. 

Silvio Pellico 

730 The Autobiography of Benja- 
min Franklin 

735 Until the Day Breaks. Emily 

Spender 

738 In the Golden Days. Edna 

Lyall 

748 Hurrish: A Study. By the 

Hon. Emily Lawless 

750 An Old Story of My Farming 
Days. Fritz Reuter. 1st half 
750 An Old Story of My Farming 
Days. Fritz Reuter. 2d lialf 
752 Jackanapes, and Other Stories. 

Juliana Horatia Ewing 

754 How to be Happy Though Mar- 
ried. Bjy a Graduate in the 

University of 3Iatrimony 

t55 Margery Daw 

756 The Strange Adventures of Cap- 

tain Dangerous. A Narrative 
in Plain English. Attempted 
bj^ George Augustus Sala 

757 Love’s Martyr. Laurence Alma 

Tadema 

759 In Shallow Waters. Annie Ar- 

mitt 

766 No. XIII; or, The Story of the 
Lost V estal. Emma Marshall 
770 The Castle of Otranto. Hor- 
ace Walpole 


773 The Mark of Cain. Andrew 

Lang 10 

774 The Life and Travels of Mungo 

Park 10 

776 P6re Goriot. Honor6 De Balzac 20 

777 The Voyages and Travels of 

of Sir John Maundeville, Kt. . 10 

778 Society’s Verdict. By the au- 

thor of “My Marriage” 20 

786 Ethel Mildmay’s Follies. By 
author of “Petite’s Romance” 20 

793 Vivian Grey. By the Rt. Hon. 
Benjamin Disraeli, Earl of 

Beaconsfield. 1st half 20 

793 Vivian Grey. By the Rt. Hon. 
Benjamin Disraeli. Earl of 

Beaconsfield. 2d half 20 

801 She Stoops to Conquer, and 
The Good-Natured Man. Oli- 
ver Goldsmith 10 

803 Major Frank. A. L. G. Bos- 

boom-Toussaint 20 

807 If Love Be Love. D. Cecil Gibbs 20 

809 Witness My Hand. By author 
of “ Lady Gwendolen’s Tryst ” 10 

810 The Secret of Her Life. Ed- 

ward Jenkins 20 

816 Rogues and Vagabonds. By 
George R. Sims, author of 

“ ’Ostler Joe” 20 

822 A Passion Flower. A Novel. . . 20 
852 Under Five Lakes. M. Quad. 20 
879 The Touchstone of Peril. A 
Novel of Anglo-Indian Life, . 
With Scenes During the Mu- 
tiny. R. E. Forrest 20 

885 Les Mis6rables. Victor Hugo. 

Part 1 20 

885 Les Mis6rables. Victor Hugo. 

Part II 20 

885 Les Mis6rables. Victor Hugo. 

Part III 20 

908 A Willful Young Woman 20 

913 The Silent Shore. John 

Bloundelle-Burton 20 

915 That Other Person. Mrs. Al- 
fred Hunt. 1st half 20 

915 That Other Person. Mrs. Al- 
fred Hunt. 2d half 20 

917 The Case of Reuben Malachi. 

H. Sutherland Edwards 10 

919 Locksley Hall Sixty Years Af- 

ter. etc. By Alfred, Lord Ten- 
nyson. P.L., D.C L 10 

920 A Child of the Revolution. By 

the author of “ Mademoiselle 
Mori ” 20 

921 The Late l\Iiss Hollingford. 

Rosa Mulholland 10 

933 A Hidden Ten or. Mary Albert 20 
937 Cashel Byron’s Profession. By 

George Bernard Shaw 20 

9.38 Cranford. By Mrs. Gaskell... ^ 
954 A Girl’s Heart. By the author 

of “ Nobody’s Darling ” 20 

956 Her Johnnie. By Violet Whyte 20 
964 A Struggle for the Right; or. 
Tracking the Truth 20 


20 

10 

20 

10 

20 

20 

20 

20 

10 

20 

10 

20 

10 

10 

20 

20 

10 

20 

10 

10 

20 

20 

20 

20 

20 

10 

20 

20 

20 

10 

20 

10 

10 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY.-Pocket Edition. 

IIiicliaii;;'e4l and. IJiialiridged. 

WITH HANDSOME LITHOGRAPHED PAPER COVER. 


LA'PES'J’ 


NO PRICIC. 

669 Pole OH Wliist 20 

432 THK WITCH’S HEAD. By 
H. Rider IJa^grard 20 

1065 Herr Paulus: His Rise, His 

Greatness, and His Fall. By 
Walter Besant 20 

1066 My Husband and I. By Count 

Lyof Tolstoi 10 

1067 Saint Michael. By E. Werner. 

First half ." 20 

1067 Saint Michael. By E. Werner. 

Second half 20 

1068 Vendetta! or, The Story of One 

Forgotten. By Marie' Corelli. 20 

1069 Polikouchka. By Count Lyof 

Tolstoi 10 

1070 A Life’s Mistake. By Mrs. H. 

Lovett Cameron 20 

1071 The Death of Ivan Iliitch. By 

Count Lyof Tolstoi 10 

1072 Only a Coral Girl. By Gertrude 

Fo’rde 20 

1073 Two Generations. By Count 

Lyof Tolstoi 10 

1074 Stormy Waters. By Robert 

Buchanan 20 

1075 The Mystery of a Hansom Cab. 

By Fergus W. Hume 20 

1076 The jMystery of an Omnibus. 

By F. Du Boisgobey 20 

1077 The Nun’s Curse. By Mrs. J. 

H. Riddell 20 

1078 The Slaves of Paris. By Emile 

Gaboriau. First half 20 

1078 The Slaves of Paris. By Emile 

Gaboriau, Second half 20 

1079 Beatitiful Jim: of the Blank- 

shire Regiment. By John 
Strange VVinter 20 

1080 Bertha’s Secret. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 1st half 20 

1080 Bertha’s Secret. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 2d half. 20 

1081 Too Curious. By Edward J. 

Goodman 20 

1082 The Severed Hand. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 1st half 20 

1082 The Severed Hand. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 2d half 20 

1083 The IJttle Old Man of the Bat- 

ignolles. By Emile Gaboriau 10 

1084 Chris. By W. E. Norris 20 

1085 The Matapan Affair. ByF. Du 

Boisgobey. 1st half 20 

1085 The Marapan Affair. By F. Du 
Boisgobey. 2d half 20 


ISSUES: 

NO. PRICK. 


1086 Nora. By Carl Detlef 20 

1087 A Woman’s Face; or, A Lake- 

land Mystery, By F. AVarden 20 

1088 The Old Age of Monsieur Le- 

coq. By F. Du Boisgobey. 1st 
half 20 

1088 The Old Age of Monsieur Le- 

coq. By F. Du Boisgobey. 2d 
half 20 

1089 Home Sounds. By E. Werner 20 

1090 The Cossacks. By Count Lyof 

Tolstoi 20 

1091 A Modern Cinderella. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme 10 

1092 A Glorious Gallop. By Mrs. 

Edward Kenuard 20 

1093 In the Schillingscourt. By E, 

Marlitt 20 

1094 Homo Sum. By George Ebers. 20 

1095 The Legacy of Cain. By Wilkie 

Collins * 20 

1096 The Strahge Adventures of a 

House-Boat. William Black 20 

1097 The Burgomaster’s Wife. By 

George Ebers 20 

1098 The Fatal Three. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

1099 The Lasses of Leverhouse. By 

Jessie Fothergill 20 

1100 Mr. Meeson’s AVill. By H Rider 

Haggard 20 

1101 An Egyptian Princess. Vol. I. 

By George Ebers 20 

1101 An Egyptian Princess, Vol. II. 

By George Ebers 20 

1102 Young Mr. Barter’s Repent- 

ance. By David Christie Mur- 
ray 10 

1103 The Honorable Mrs. Vereker. 

By “The Duchess” 20 

1104 The Heir of Linne. By Rob- 

ert Buchanan 20 

1105 Mai wa’s Revenge. By H. Rider 

Haggard 20 

1106 The Emperor, By George 

Ebers 20 

1107 The Passenger from Scotland 

Yard. By H. F. Wood 20 

1108 Sebastopol. By Count Lyof 

Tolstoi 20 

1109 Through the Long Nights. By 

Mrs. E. Lynn Linton. First 

half 20 

1109 Through the Long Nights. By 
Mrs. E. Lynn Linton. Second 
half 20 


The foregoing works, contained in Thk Skasidk Library, Pocket Edition, 
are for sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any address, postage free, on 
receipt of price. Parties ordering by mail mill please order by numbers. Ad- 
d r0ss 

GEDUGE MUNKO, Miiiiro’s Publishing House, 

P, O. Box 3751. 17 to 27 Vandewater Street, N. Y. 


The Passenger from Scotland Yard 




« 

(f 





liSISl 






THE celebrated 


SOBHER 




aRAND, SQUARE AND UPRIGHT PIANOS. 


FIRST PRIZE 

DIPLOMA. 


Centennial Exnibi* 
tfon, 1876; Montreal. 
1881 and lf<82. 


The enviable po- 
sition Sohmer & 
Co. hold among 
American Piano 
Manufacturers is 
solely due to the 
merits of their in- 
struments. 



They are used 
in Conservato- 
ries, Schools and 
Seminaries, on ac- 
count oi their su- 
perior tone and 
unequaled dura- 
bility. 

The SOHMEU 
Piano is a special 
favorite with the 
leading musician.-, 
and critics. 


ARE AT present THE MOST POPUI.AR 
AND PREFERRED BY THE LEADING ARTISTS. 

SOilMCR A C«.. MniiiifactHiei-8, No. 149 to 155 E. 14ili Street, N. Y. 


THE KING OF STORY PAPERS. 


THE 


New York Fireside Companion, 


A Paper for the Home Circle. 

PURE, BRIGPIT, AND IN'l’ERESTING. 


The Fireside Companion is the 
most interesting weekly paper pub- 
lished in tlie United States, embracing 
in its contents the best Stories, tlie 
best Sket'hes, the best Humorous Mat- 
ter, l^aiidom Talks, and Answers to 
Correspondents, etc. No expense is 
spared to get the best matter. 


TERMS The New York Fireside 
Companion will be sent for one year, 
on receipt of $3: two copies for J5. 
Getters-upof clubs can afterward add 
single copies at $2..')0 each. We will be 
responsible for remittances sent in 
Registered Letters or by Post-office 
Money Orders. Postage free. Speci- 
men copies sent free. Address 

CIEOROE HI NRO, Miinro’s Pnbllsbing Ilongo, 
P. 0. Box 815 1._ 17 to 2“,Y andewnte r St., K.Y. 


ESTABLISHED 1801 


BARRY’S 

TRICOPHEROUS. 



The Oldest and Best Preparation 
for the Hair in the World. 









^ * ' ' .V ^ rT . 

>r 




» I 




v 


s .' s'! ^ 

'v f C 


'C»'» 


4 

•f-' 



: •, 


• V 

X' 




t 

i •- 


I 


; ‘ «J 



..:Vfv- 




‘ % 


♦ V 


U ' 


. f ■ . I 


i 


» 

>■ 


•• lie 


V* 


;■• ■' _ ; 


T>* T • • . 


f 





-j: 


p 

i » 


' A 


/*U' 


. ,v/ V . 


» j 


K ' ' » 


« »• •• 


; 


►* ’ 


/ 

♦ f 


« • » • 

' . > 




4 .1 


'• i* . 
« * 




' tv, 

t ' > ^ ■ i.M • T ‘V ‘ , * * ■ . 

• i.* •. . n iM:/. 



e ' » » ■ »vi ' T . 

• 1.* • O 

^ • * • -V* . f 

■ V - y : . -r - 

'<•.■/ .. -.1 ' Vl» r . :^ <r: ?:>■ 


. . 1 


■/ 

.Wii 0 ' 



.-* ' *• 
^ ^ • 


J . . / v.» ' » • . . . . 

‘ '•* ' ■■■ ■. i . 





. 1 -^ . 


*/ 1 




f ' 



> • 


-. ,. ¥■ 



/ " •• '^orf iiz^ 

•'., A. 


w . . a#‘.> vA'i ' * V’"' ".*:;••• .V 

■''''■ • • ’ r.-.:\"".,V >'• 

4.1 A 10 ^ 


* *' *1' s ' 


y. 


1-^1. • 

’ « • 


• , ■ » ' 
4 

>* 

% • 


i* 


* i. » 


• r ».• *'• »' ■ 

f) / »! ' 1 




>'*■ **:r^.'^-. '- V 

-V, ■ ■/•#: 

'., ■ ■••■:'^,-r;^-‘, 0 %*: .-fj *.y. . 


T -lUrJ 



k • 

1 





A- 

* » » 


->■ 


• •« 


^ A ■ 

. ' :A \. .;' 


• ■ 

■ ' . » ’ 

• > 4j » 

^ <; 

■■ •*- 

» T-, 

' 

• X i,t V • ^ 


* • •» 

• « 

* ■* . 

P 

• 1 

• ^t ft. 

^ . 



.■■t V» ‘•*V 

1 '^* S?-^ 4 k 


■/ 


;•'.« ■ i 

• 1 ^ » • 1 * 


‘".v 


a 


, I 

' < 

I I 


•’ ^ * • '.‘n. ’ .» V 

• 7''. •> 


I 

t 

$ 


‘AJ 

■i 


\ • 


V « 


%■ 
. #* 


I . • 






■* 


> ' 


. v-.« *. 


'V ‘ r 

W»/ ; 


4 

r • 


V*-' ' .'i' *; Ai4' '■' ? i. « 

ft? ‘ 'i'V *V^. 

iSi 3 ® V 


■<• >>/ 




>. 


.4: 


1 • 


^ «- 





X'-i 


^ 'V J f; 
• ■. <-j". r -J^*'** 


rP 






S ». 











4 4 *' 


f ^ 


•:v^v 


li 


ill 


■ - ‘ 

w * 


• K << ' 



• M 


►. ' . •■^' tf rr^ -rTTi^ ail y ^ 

' ‘ 'ii A 

:t/-' •' L ‘■'■A - , ’. ' .- 

* . -■ V. ' ■' , '■ '': 

. 'V Vv**'^ '' '. , '.■' i ■ 

r ’*: *■'• i .':• '•• 0 

■ ^ . - . • ; V « ■ * - ^ 

L ‘ • ' A- 

• ’ • > ^ 


•:>< 


^ % 




».v‘ ^ ' X -t X » *> , V’ 

* ■ ‘ > .• ' • ’iV " 

. V .' , ■ *P , •. t'r 





llll 


•; » 


i 


1 


Z » 


•♦ X 


‘4 


till 


V ) 




/"'.■;■, ''m' • 


r . f •. 


A ' X ^ 


I 




• '4‘i< ' .r*>\ '■- 

'.A ' 




I \ 


I 


• ■ 

Rr.c-; ;' 




y. 



li 






■T 



' * . :4 ^Vk«5-V' 


i 


:?i 




k 

1! 


i 


11 


^ > 




/ 


. I 


. » t 




f . i 


V ' 

4- •' • " • 

■.V>#'.. . 


V 


.ti 


• I 


«• ■ I 


• i 


' I* 




f/ 


*1 « 


>4 




^ > Ic 


4 • 


M* 4 


■ «^v ^ ’i ' ^ ' '•' i’v 

. . I* “■' .« 


»♦ » 


H 


» » 


r y 


4 » 








■ I 


‘•■■■V I 


!• • 


\i' 


\ 


',M ^ 




1 . 




4‘ '. ♦ 






B 


■i 


I ■•r’i' 


> /i' 


‘ •< 


'i 












i 


] 






i. 





4 t 


y 4 




■ />VV‘ 


i: 






! * 


L' *4 - . 


• V » # j 

v\‘V 


1/1. i 




. t 




I 


l| 




/ 






V‘ 


• l 


■< * Oil 


4 ) 


til 


h 


«» 

li 




-A 


> I 





■• k 


t A 






/ 


• «~ r 

X V * ^ 


* 


» i 


4 t 


• 'r. I- 















